#tripod side table

[gallifreyfallsnomorre]

Seattle Contemporary Living Room Large trendy loft-style dark wood floor living room photo with white walls and a tv stand

[phoebepheebsphibs]

3

[thakefurniture]

Regency Lamp Table, oval side table, antique oval table : Tripod Tables - Antique Occasional Tables - Tilt Top Table - Antique Lamp Table - Lamp table, Tripod table

[stalkedandblocked]

camgirl!reader x sevika

tw. reader and sevika are live, regular au (?? i have no idea how to word it 😭) masturbation (reader), strap on, fingering, cunnilingus (giving and receiving), sevika puts you in a headlock, squirting, overstim, sucking the strap

while in college you get a little bored of your mundane life, and with some free time during the night and also in need of some more money you start an only fans account. after growing quite a following you decide to do a raffle to stream with one of your fans to make things more interesting.

a/n: this took so long holy moly. i hope y’all liked this because this is one of my first times writing a full fic <3 like and reblog if ur a real sevika truther :D

with your tripod and camera on your bed infront of you, you moan, “mmmf… im so close,” you arch your back off the bed as you press the vibrator harder onto your clit. you spread your legs wider, giving a show to the camera. “fuck- oh my god,” your hips start bucking and you throw your head back, you moan and cry as your orgasm hits you, the painful feeling of overstimulation comes quickly but you keep the vibrator on your pussy and your whole body trembles through your orgasm. panting like a dog, you finally turn off the vibrator and place it to the side.

you lift your shaky body and sit on your knees in front of the camera, putting your hands in your lap to squeeze your breast together. you start to announce the little idea you had. messages are spammed in the chat, asking for you to chose them, that they’ll even send money for you to choose them, and asking about what you mean by this. you only giggle and say, “it’s just a thought you pervs, i thought it might be fun to chose one of you randomly and see if you’d be interested in streaming with me.”

the chat dies down on the questions and you say a few more words to say goodbye, before ending the stream by blowing them a kiss.

after hopping in the shower and getting yourself clean, you change into some comfy pajamas before making a post on your page.

‘hi to all my fans! i’m so glad you guys were interested in my proposal, if your in the area dm me for a chance to stream with me ;), i can’t wait!’ after pressing send you turn your phone off and head to bed, hoping that hopefully this won’t be a mistake, and that whoever you chose isn’t entirely horrendous looking.

the next day you check your phone, a couple hundred dm’s are in your inbox. most being people from far away asking if they can fly out but you stick to your word, you find one from an account who sent their address. “let’s see what this person has to offer” you think to yourself. you text back and forth before ultimately asking for a photo of them holding some id next to them so you know they’re not lying about their identity.

a while passed before the account responds, there was no indication about who this person might be so your surprised to see a woman, another notifications sends and it’s a photo of her id attached. you look closer at it, her names sevika, she’s quite a bit older than you, but that didn’t bother you. you ponder for a bit, you’ve never had sex with a woman, but was not opposed to the idea. but yes, even thought the photo of herself is a bit awkward, even reminding you of a parents facebook photo which makes you laugh to yourself a bit, she is very attractive. and from what you can see she seems quite muscular.

“alright”, and you send her an address of a restaurant near both of your homes and tell her to meet you there tomorrow and 4pm.

the next day, you put on a simple going out outfit, nothing to make it obvious your meeting a stranger to fuck her, then head out the door. as you walk to the restaurant you feel butterflies, obviously you had only even been with men, but she was, well, very sexy you thought. the idea excited you but also made you nervous.

as you sat at a table and tell the waitress your waiting for somone, another walks into the restaurant. you miss her face but her hair is tied half up and it’s short, a few inches above her shoulder. she’s also is very tall. you gulp, from what you remember that looks like her. she scans the restaurant before you make eye contact. she walks over to you and sits across from you.

“you must be sevika,” you smile, feeling more nervous than you expected to be. when she responds her voice is deep and smooth, her words are almost seductive. compared to your messages and how she talks to you she seems much more ready and nonchalant about this whole situation in real life. everything about her attracts you, “so did you have any ideas of when you’d like to.. ahem” you try to keep your voice down so no one hears and gets any ideas, “..stream”.

sevika is lazily leaning back in her char, legs nudged open a bit. she leans over the table, resting her arms on it, “i’m ready whenever you are.” you have no idea if she meant to make you flustered, or tried to make it sound sexy but her words melt you brain almost. you stand quickly and grab her arm, “let’s do it today, let’s do it now!” you squeal out before your dragging her out of the restaurant.

sevika had driven so she directs you to her car, you drive to your house and you walk up the stair together after she grabs a bag out of the back of her car. your whole body is warm and fuzzy with excitement. “i usually wear some lingerie when i start, as you probably know. would you like some or do you want to start naked?” you ask, grabbing a matching to set to change into.

“naked.” she responds, she watches as you walk to the bathroom to change. you throw a robe out of the bathroom so she can cover herself before you start. you come out in your set, wearing a robe as well. she sits on your bed watching, “let me set up the camera and then we can begin. did you have anything in mind on what we want to do, what we want to follow?”

“i have ideas for later, but let’s not worry about that now.”

you begin the stream, sevika sits naked on your bed, and you take the robe off infront of the camera. sevika places a hand on your hip guiding you to her lap before you crawl over her. each touch feels like sparks, your already soaked and anticipating what’s gonna happen. you grab eachother and start kissing, her tongue runs over your lip and your lips crash against each other. you sit down on her lap and slowly move your hips over her muscular thighs, you moan into her mouth. “that’s a good girl,” she praises, before continuing to kiss you.

she grabs your hips roughly, helping them move back and forth, you arch and moan for her. your chat is going crazy, some even shocked that it’s another woman. she stops your grinding and lifts your hips up a bit before dragging her thick finger up and down your slit. both of you seem like you forgot that your streaming and just enjoy each others bodies. she rubs your clit in circles, making your toes curl. she takes you from on top of her and flips you to face the camera, spreading your legs, the exposing position making you even wetter. she slides your panties to the side so the camera can see your wet cunny, she starts rubbing circles on your clit makes you throw your head back.

she chuckles at you, “don’t make me hold you head up. already so sensitive, huh?” her mocking words make you moan once more, she begins teasing your hole before nudging her index and middle finger into you. her fingers are so thick and long, your already seeing stars, “fuck! yes! right there sevika, oh my god-” you scream out as she adds her ring finger inside. your juices leak all over her lap and hand. your head leans against her and you mewl into her ear, begging to cum. as you finally start to reach your orgasm she pulls out her fingers and slaps your pussy.

“fuck!” you cry out as your body reacts to your ruined orgasm, sevika chuckles. you breathe heavily as sevika manhandles your basically limp body, laying it on the bed, she starts pulling down your panties and the slick dripping between your legs is more visible than ever. you arch your back slightly off the bed and she unclips your bra, she stops what she’s doing and stares at them. you giggle and can’t tell if it’s from embarrassment or because of her expression, like she’s almost captivated. your breasts fall from the bra and lay prettily on display, which sevika quickly takes advantage of and begins to suck at on of your nipples and knead the other. you let at small moans while kisses litter your tits.

she lifts her head up and smirks “are you ready?” she asks, with having no idea what she’s talking about, you eagerly nod. she begins moving her body over yours and places her bare pussy on your face, letting down all her weight, then spreading your legs and burrying her face in your own cunt. your almost shocked by this, she starts teasing the tip of her tongue on your clit, before diving it into your hole, tongue fucking you and hitting all the good spots in your pussy. you moan against her cunt and try to copy her actions. you suck her clit and lap your tongue up and down her pussy, you squeeze around her tongue in response to her moaning. it’s low and vibrates through your whole body. it’s not long before you cum because of the previous teasing she had done earlier. you squeeze your legs around her head and buck up, trying to keep up the pace with how your lapping her pussy, but inevitably struggle from how your body is shaking against her face.

sevika places one last sloppy kiss to your clit then raises herself, and grinds against your face until she orgasms, gripping onto your hair. the moans she lets out makes your pussy ache.

while coming down form your high you lay next to each other panting, forgetting about the stream itself. “you okay, baby?” sevika asks, places kisses on your neck. “mhm,” you mumble, relaxing into the bed as she kisses you. “well, i think it’s time for what i had planned for earlier”, she gets up and disappears off camera. across the room she pulls something out of her bag that she had grabbed earlier. she begins to attach something to her hips, and before you know it she’s standing over you with a strap on.

it’s so thick and long, you gulp. not even with any men had you had to take something for big. “i know your wet enough but, i don’t think this is” sevika lets out a sly smile. her height already towers over you, so even standing and you sitting in the bed has you face to face with it. “suck it.” she orders and obediently you do. you place your hands around it, looking up at her with puppy dog eyes, and slowly thrust your mouth down onto it. she stares down at you and bites her lip. you bob your head up and down, slowly reaching down with each thrust, your throat adjusts around it and you gag against it and sevika laughs. she places one hand on your head to tug at your hair. once you finally reach down the base she holds your head down. the length makes your eyes tear up as you gag even more.

she pulls your hair back until your off of it and pushes you down to the bed. still grasping your hair she puts your face down into the pillows and keeps your ass up before crawling over you. she has your face infront of the camera and wraps her arm around you. her thick biceps flex as she grabs the strap to line it up at your cunt. she wastes no time pushing it in, when she bottoms out your eyes roll back and without even moving it feels almost heavenly. she starts thrusting slowly before they become almost rapid, her arm squeezes around your throat even more and you moan and gasp. “taking it like such a good little slut,” she purred. you let out a messy smile and your moans just couldn’t stop coming out. they way it felt against your g-spot and pounded into you made your toes curl.

“se-sevika!” you drooled, “i’m gonna cum, please! hah, keep going!” you screamed, sevika took no time and started pounding into you more, her free arm rubbing your clit, fast circles against the puffy aching bud. your body shook and your eyes rolled back into your head, sevika thought they might never go back. you cried out before you finally squirted all over yourself and the bed, the liquid covering your stomach, the sheets and sevikas hand. “holy shit” sevika gasped at the reaction to your orgasm. your whole body was stiff and shaking, your mouth tried to let out moans but nothing came out as your eyes rolled back as hard as they could. your body went limp onto the bed, sevika pulled out of you, a line of slick breaking as the contact broke. you whined at the sudden emptiness.

she grabs the camera and faces it towards you, she spreads your weak legs showing the amount of cum that had leaked from your hole and everything that had dripped onto the sheets and between your thighs. “took it like the good slut she is,” she grabbed a handful of your ass and let out a laugh before she abruptly ended the stream.

she threw the camera onto the bed carelessly, then asked, “so, want to meet again next week?”

[eraserbread]

makin a movie with your best friend with benefits, suguru ✧

→ afab fem!reader, est "relationship", filming sex, m!receiving oral, getos lethal pillow talk, use of pet names, porn with plot

suguru's standing in front of the tripod, little red light on, he's shooting, smirking into the lens. vaguely, he can see his reflection in the glass, his shirtless body, and loose hair. he's ready for you.

and you're ready for him, posed on the made bed, completely naked and pristine after your shower. coated in expensive perfume, shaved raw, wearing only your earrings, it's the only way you'd agree to make a movie with him.

he is your best friend, after all. it's hard to say no to that pretty face.

"and... action." he stands up, turning to face you. you're sitting up at the realization, smirking devilishly. "think we'll start with a pov shot."

"mm, i like the sound of that." you're crawling on your knees as he grabs the camera, ambling to the side of the bed where you're waiting so perfectly.

"i wish you could see how pretty you look on camera, " he mumbles, long hair falling over his shoulders as he looks down on you. his gaze flickers from the screen to your face, and his smirk turns into a concentrated scowl.

you're working your fingers at his pants, sliding nimble hands into the fabric to pull his cock out of its confines. he's so hard, springing to life and pearling with dribbles of precum. the coldness of the air makes him shiver—geto's eyebrow twitches.

when you're wrapping your lips across the familiar tip, he's breathing out a satisfying sigh, lips quirking into a smile as your prominent lipstick stains the paleness of the skin. longer, manicured nails dig into his thigh, leaving marks in his warm flesh. you're sucking him like you're in love with him, and you think you are.

your devotion is forever etched into this camera.

"yes... suck it just like that, my pretty girl. drool on it, let me hear you." he's purring in a dipped voice, so horny he's shaking. it's something about the way you look right now, staring up at him with watery doe-eyes through a camera and right to his face. He can't stop flicking up and down at it; he's starting to lose his cool.

and you're certainly not helping the situation as you gag and moan over his impressive length, spit falling from your slick lips. you're putting on a show, letting it slide from your lips and press against your face. you're like a different person, using his groans as fuel to suck harder—put more life behind it.

"ah, that's so hot, beautiful. 'm gonna cum, you can't just—can't just look at me like that." suguru's free hand pushes his hair back against his skull, that one determined quirk in his thin eyebrow never fading. it's so counterproductive, hearing him call you hot. you wish you could shovel those praises down his throat, but you're happy and gagged right now. that's enough.

"cum in my mouth, geto-kun. please.” you’re mumbling, wet eyelashes trembling with tears. his breath is deep, shaking in his throat as you kiss up his shaft, tongue tracing the prominent, pulsing vein there.

you can’t see it—the camera’s in your face, but suguru’s expression plummets. “how… god, how are you so hot?” his core is trembling, long fingers tightening over the camera. then, he reaches down to stroke your lips, pressing his cock into your cheek. “kiss it, baby.”

so you do. right there on your favorite vein, next to geto’s thumb.

“fuck it.” he grunts, turning abruptly to put the camera on the bedside table. he doesn’t know what angle this is gonna catch, but he tilts it so he can see your bodies as he pins you down. “you can’t just fucking do that. mmh — gotta cum inside’a you.”

“did you like my acting?” you’re smiling, biting across your bottom lip as he grinds between your thighs, lips at your neck.

“that wasn’t acting. you’re just a tease.” he’s desperate, one hand fishing blindly between your bodies, trying to find its home inside of you. he’s dragging the thickness of his cock through your labia like a tease, face screwing up when he dips inside of you on every upstroke. you're sobbing slick over him, panting moans hot between you as he kisses over your parted lips.

"mm, just put it in." you're not looking at him; can't bear the needy look in his eyes. he just looks so beautiful, your heart is swelling and pushing at your chest every time he peeks at you. at this point, you're bound to say something you'll regret.

but, he's taking it all away—every thought in your mind as he finally, slowly eases that grueling length inside of you. your body reacts before you can, spasming uncomfortably at the intrusion. you suck in a breath.

"you can take it. you got it, baby." he's whispering, nudging noses as he commands eye contact. his hair is hanging over your face like a curtain, blocking the roomlight, trapped alone with him.

it's the closest he's ever been after nine months of non-stop casual hookups. this is the pinnacle.

"feels so good." you give him as... something. trying to hide the look on your face as he tucks his hair away.

"look at the camera." he's sitting up, fresh, cool air wafting over your overheated body as he turns to the bedside. "say it again."

"you feel so good... inside of me. so right. i love y- it."

"you follow directions so well..." he's chewing on his words, long arm reaching to retrieve the camera. his cock hits an angle when he sits up, making your face screw in pleasure. "so pretty... hi, pretty."

"hi, geto." he's over you again, fucking you lazily with the camera at his face. watching you through the screen, you're sucking over the thumb he gives you, breathing heavily into the mic.

"hi, baby." he clears a crook in his neck from clenching his jaw so hard, dripping sweat from his hairline. "turn over. wanna get a good shot of me fucking you." he commands with the sweetest voice, knowing you'd drop everything to press to your stomach. and, you do.

sugu watches as he slips out of you, hissing as he pinches off the base of his cock. he's been edging himself for what felt like hours, though the recording only had a run time of twenty-five minutes.

"like this?" you peek over your shoulder, palms and knees pressed to the sheets. over the camera, he nods, biting his pouty bottom lip.

"such a good shot. love your beautiful body, babe." he's whispering again, sliding his cock between the skin of your ass and his thick palm. "can I cum inside of you, please? promise I'll clean you up so well."

you're nodding, neck straining because you want to see him. even when he's bottoming out inside of you, camera focused on your cunt as it stretches and inflames, you're just looking at him.

"oh, my... ohmy..." he's muttering, stress veins in his neck reddening as he does everything he can not to cum before you. his movie had to be perfect, he had to show your orgasm face—it's his favorite part, the most satisfying ending.

so, he chases it like a wild dog. the camera falls somewhere on the bed once he gets into it, both hands grabbing at your ass. he fucks you like he's trying to cum, all messy and uncoordinated—grunting hot and panting curses into the air. it's what pushes you over to the edge, his presence. the weight he puts on you when he presses over your back. it's so perfect, you're crying again.

something happens, you shriek "—clo-!"

and he takes you by the neck, craning your head over your shoulder as he kisses you to your max. it's mean—heady. unreal. and he's cumming right alongside you, just like he wanted.

fuck the camera, right now. suguru had everything he wanted.

once the high has faded, suguru is lying limp next to you, face pressed against your shoulder, laid out on his front.

it had to have been three or maybe four minutes—long enough for the dust to settle, long enough for you to realize that this round was enough. but the camera's still rolling. you pick it up.

"so..." you start, sliding from under his big body, slowly rising back to your knees. it's odd, being on the opposite side—the one behind the camera, breathing heavily as you bring it to your face.

pointing it right at sugu, you zoom into his flushed face, shot swaying like the breeze. his hair is posed around his face, stringy with sweat, damp with lust. he could be sleeping, but that smirk on his face reminds you that he isn't.

"thoughts on tonight?" you bite your lip, speaking slowly. he laughs, raising a hand to cover his blotchy face. "stop acting so shy, you're hot." you tease, reaching to slap his hand away. but, of course he catches it with those jarring reflexes, holding you by the wrist—he kisses you there. it's soft.

"shouldn't i be asking that?"

"well, you're not a very good director. where's your stamina, sexy?" you're talking slow, lens still haphazardly pointing in his direction. "mm, camera wants a kiss goodbye, too."

"bring that here." he's responding, unsure if he's talking about the camera or you, but the promise has him sitting up on his elbow, swallowing slowly. he reaches for you, snaking his arm over your waist, fingers dipping between your cum stained thighs to feel him making a mess of you. you gasp, he pulls you in.

and as you bring the camera to his lips, he kisses the lens, then turns it back on you. that blurred, smudged reflection he sees on the playback screen has his body reacting.

he mutters as he flicks the nearly hour-and-a-half-long recording off, "yeah... you're dangerous."

[f1girliefics]

Learning Curve

Kimi Antonelli x Reader

Summary: You were hired to manage his image, not fall for him.

It was your second day as the new PR assistant for Mercedes, and you already felt like you were drowning in emails, social media alerts, and sponsor updates.

But the real challenge hadn’t even started yet.

Your first task?

Help Kimi Antonelli ease into the media spotlight.

They warned you he was quiet. Reserved. Intense.

What they didn’t tell you was that he had the kind of eyes that held a thousand thoughts but gave away nothing.

And when you first met him in the corner of the hospitality suite, tucked between a sleek espresso machine and his unopened media guide, he looked more like a student in detention than a future F1 star.

“You’re the new PR person?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, curious but guarded.

“That’s me,” you smiled, clutching your iPad a little tighter. “And you’re my new challenge, apparently.”

He raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t say anything. Just took a sip of water, and nodded toward the paddock entrance.

“Let’s get it over with.”

The first few weeks were a blur of interviews, sponsor shoots, fan meet-and-greets, and endless attempts to get Kimi to say more than five words on camera.

He wasn’t rude, not at all. Just careful. Thoughtful. Private.

But there were moments when you saw the person underneath the calm, media-trained surface.

Like the time he held the door open for an elderly cameraman carrying a tripod, waited until he was well through, and even helped him down the stairs.

No cameras, no one around. Just Kimi being kind.

Or the time you caught him reading through a fan letter someone had dropped at the media centre. It was a child’s drawing of his karting days, misspelt words and all. He stared at it for minutes, like it meant the world.

“Do you keep those?” you asked gently.

He folded it carefully and slid it into his bag. “Only the good ones.”

—

It became a quiet ritual between you.

After every media day, you’d sit side by side in the team trailer, debriefing with a cup of tea or whatever weird energy drink he was testing that week.

“I said too much, didn’t I?” he’d ask after a particularly chatty interview.

“You said two full sentences,” you teased. “I'm proud of you.”

He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

You didn’t know when it started feeling like more.

Maybe it was the time he started checking your schedule to see if you’d be free for lunch.

Or when he started saving you a seat beside him during meetings. Or when he noticed your cough during a back-to-back triple-header weekend and quietly left a lemon and ginger tea in your cubby the next morning.

But you really knew when he called you at half past ten, the night before his home race in Monza.

“You okay?” you asked, already worried.

There was a long pause.

“I know you’re supposed to help me handle pressure,” he said quietly. “But sometimes... I think you’re the only reason I’m handling any of this at all.”

Your breath caught.

“Kimi...”

“I don’t know if this is allowed. Or if it’s a terrible idea. But I like you. Not just as my PR lifeline." He laughed softly, nervous for the first time. “I just thought you should know.”

The team found out a month later when Toto caught Kimi stealing a kiss behind the garage after qualifying P3 in Japan.

“Be smart,” he said to both of you, but there was no stern warning, just a faint smile.

The gossip lasted all of two days before another race scandal buried it, but your life didn’t go back to normal.

Now Kimi reached for your hand under the table during press dinners. Now he texted you song lyrics when he missed you on travel days. Now he gave you his hoodie during long media shoots even though it messed with his ‘brand aesthetic’.

He was still quiet, still fiercely focused but now he let you in.

Let you see the nerves before a race, the joy after a win, the frustration after a DNF.

And you? You stopped hiding behind your clipboard.

You learned that sometimes, the best stories weren’t on the track. They were in the small moments. The almosts, the glances, the late-night calls that turned into early-morning laughs.

The day he won his first podium, you stood just off-stage, trying not to cry while cameras flashed around him. Kimi found you in the crowd anyway.

He ignored the media scrum completely, walking straight to you, helmet under his arm, champagne still dripping from his suit.

“Still proud of me?” he asked, voice low.

You reached up and cupped his cheek.

“More than ever.”

And this time, it was you who kissed him first.

[platonicaxaxe]

Deathtrap & Bob ⁴

Bob Reynolds (sentry) x Ex Assassin Reader

Summary: Anxious Blonde Bob trains with Deathtrap

The Bob(sentry) Masterlist here

Inside the sleek, high-ceilinged Avengers Tower, the atmosphere buzzed with frantic energy. Assistants in headsets weaved between bustling makeup artists, hair stylists, and suit technicians. Tables were stacked with press kits, bottled water, and neatly folded cue cards. Camera crews were setting up tripods while lighting specialists adjusted panels to ensure every hero would sparkle—literally.

In the center of it all stood Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, heels clicking furiously on the floor as she barked into a comm tablet.

“Chop-chop, people!” she called out, not even glancing up. “We need this press conference to prove that the new Avengers aren’t just here for PR fluff and action-figure deals.”

She spun around dramatically, eyes locking on Mel, one of her top assistants who was holding a clipboard like it was a shield. “This is for the people, Mel. Real heroes. Real impact. Got it?”

Mel hesitated. “Yeah, but don’t you think—”

“Just do what I say, Mel,” Valentina cut her off with a raised finger. “Send the invites. Confirm the press. Go. Run. Now.”

Mel scurried off like his shoes were on fire.

Valentina turned on her heel, surveying her team of so-called heroes now being prepped like runway models in a high-stakes fashion show. Each one stood under a halo of spotlight and scrutiny.

Bucky was having his new vibranium arm polished to a near mirror-shine. It gleamed cold and lethal, a sharp contrast to the bored expression on his face.

Ava Starr stood a few feet away in her newly reinforced Ghost suit, her eyes narrowed in discomfort as someone fussed with the fabric on her shoulders. “Don’t touch the stabilizers,” she warned a stylist with a glare.

Across the room, Red Guardian grinned like a kid on his birthday, striking heroic poses every time a photographer passed by. “Tell them to get my good side! Actually, never mind—I only have good sides,” he boomed.

Yelena sat slouched in a makeup chair, arms crossed and lips pursed, dodging mascara like it was a projectile. “Why do I need blush? I don’t blush, I bleed.”

John Walker adjusted his shield, which still had a dent that made it look vaguely taco-shaped despite endless repair attempts. “This thing’s a design choice now,” he muttered defensively.

Then, there was Bob.

Standing awkwardly in the middle of the chaos in his usual green knit sweater and baggy brown square pants, he stuck out like a kindergartener on a field trip. His hands were deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched, and a quiet look of worry on his face.

Valentina approached him slowly, folding her arms. “Honey… are you really going to wear that to the press conference?”

Bob looked down at his outfit. “I-I thought it was… comfy.”

“You look like you’re about to pitch a tent at a national park, not represent Earth’s Mightiest Heroes,” she sighed. “Go. Suit up. You know which one.”

Moments later, the double doors to the conference hall opened.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

A wall of camera lights hit them like a storm.

And then, he appeared.

Bob stepped out onto the stage, now fully transformed into his Sentry persona. The gold and navy suit clung perfectly to his tall frame, the golden “S” emblem gleaming beneath the chandeliers. His hair—freshly dyed and styled by three very exhausted stylists—glowed under the lights.

He still looked a bit nervous, though. His lips twitched slightly and his eyes kept scanning the crowd like he was searching for a familiar face to anchor him.

Valentina leaned toward him, whispering behind her smile. “You look like a god. Own it, sweetheart.”

Bob swallowed. “I-I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“That’s just anxiety,” Val said smoothly. “Or fame. Maybe both. Either way, smile. You’re not in Kansas anymore.”

As the reporters raised their microphones and the questions began to pour in, Bob took a deep breath and straightened his back.

Somewhere in the sea of blinding flashes and murmured voices, someone shouted:

“Who’s the guy in gold?!”

“That’s Sentry,” someone else whispered. “He’s the most powerful one. And the shyest.”

Bob’s lips quirked into a soft, unsure smile.

And in the crowd, Valentina smirked with satisfaction. Her Thunderbolts weren’t perfect—but they were about to make headlines.

The conference lights had dimmed, the applause had died, and the cameras had finally stopped flashing. But inside Bob Reynolds, the storm was only beginning to churn.

Backstage, Valentina paced like a general preparing for war. The team—still half in costume, half in post-event exhaustion—gathered in the sleek conference room behind the press hall.

"Alright," she said, voice sharp. "We’ve got momentum now. This is when we strike. First mission briefing, now—"

But Bob was gone.

He’d quietly slipped away the moment the press conference ended, his heart pounding too loudly to hear anything else. His footsteps echoed against the sterile tile floor as he pushed open the bathroom door and rushed inside.

He gripped the edge of the sink tightly, eyes locked on his reflection.

Blonde hair. Pale face. Sweaty brow.

The suit was gone—replaced by his familiar sweater and brown pants—but the image still didn’t feel like him. The Sentry lingered in his eyes. The power he tried so hard to contain hummed beneath his skin like a distant warning bell.

He took a shaky breath and reached for his phone.

I'm coming over, I hope you don't mind.

He hit send and stared at the screen.

No reply.

“She probably left it on silent…” he mumbled to himself, trying to reassure his spiraling thoughts. “She always does…”

He couldn’t wait. He needed to see her.

Bob left the bathroom, brushing past a pair of security guards and entering the hallway. Valentina spotted him immediately through the meeting room glass.

“Robert! Hey! Robert!” she called after him, voice laced with authority.

He didn’t stop.

Yelena stood up, intercepting Val’s advance. “Let him go.”

Val blinked, surprised. “What?”

“He’s overwhelmed. He needs her. She… grounds him,” Yelena said plainly, arms folded. “You try stopping him now, you’ll have bigger problems than a PR stunt.”

Valentina hesitated, then exhaled and waved her hand in surrender. “Fine. But if he misses this mission, you answer to the board.”

Outside, Bob moved with unusual determination. The noise of the city wrapped around him—honking cars, distant chatter, the subway rumbling beneath the sidewalk.

He stopped briefly by a familiar fruit stand and placed a few bills on the counter.

“Two apples, please,” he said quietly.

The vendor looked up, startled by the seriousness in his tone. “Sure thing, friend.”

Bob took the apples and slipped them into his backpack. His fingers brushed against his blankey inside—his little anchor—and he zipped the bag closed.

As he turned the corner, he didn’t notice the large figure stepping in his path until it was too late.

Bump.

Bob stumbled slightly. The apples rolled inside his bag.

“You again?” came a voice—gravelly, mocking.

It was him. The same tattooed thug who tried to jump him weeks ago.

Bob didn’t flinch.

He stepped around him without a word.

“Oh, so now you’re too good to apologize?” the man sneered. “Wearing your golden cape today, little hero? Or are you still hiding behind your girlfriend’s fists?”

Bob’s jaw clenched. Something cold stirred inside him—not fear. Not Void. Just… power.

He turned slowly.

“I’m not looking for a fight,” he said quietly. “Just let me go.”

“Too late for that.”

The thug shoved him hard, sending Bob skidding across the pavement.

But Bob didn’t fall.

He stopped himself mid-slide, feet dragging like anchors, and when he stood upright, there was a flicker of gold in his eyes.

The streetlights around them dimmed slightly, reacting to the subtle shift in his energy.

The thug lunged, fist cocked—but before it could land, Bob raised a glowing hand.

Wham!

A golden shockwave burst from his palm, not violent—but powerful enough to knock the man back several feet into a stack of crates. The air rippled like heat waves on concrete.

The man groaned, slumped over.

Bob took a deep breath, lowering his hand slowly. Sparks of energy danced around his fingertips before fading.

No Void. No darkness. Just control.

The people on the sidewalk gasped, some backing away, others pulling out phones—but Bob didn’t stay.

He turned and walked, his stride faster now. He was still buzzing inside, but he kept his emotions in check. He needed to get to her. To Yn.

And somewhere in the back of his mind, the Sentry whispered—not in threat, but as a presence.

You’re stronger than you think, Bob.

And this time, he believed it.

Without hesitation, Bob ran to the nearest alley and looked up to the sky. His heart was pounding, chest rising and falling rapidly.

He didn’t think—he just leapt.

This time... please.

Bob focused, summoning every ounce of energy, every fragment of control he had over the Sentry within. His eyes glowed faint gold, and the wind rushed around him as his feet slowly left the ground.

He flew.

Wobbly at first, unbalanced—but he was in the air, really flying.

For the first time.

His wide eyes filled with tears, and a smile cracked on his face before—

Boom!

He crashed down outside Yn’s cabin, right into the tall grass beside the porch with a loud thud and an ungraceful roll.

Inside the cabin, Yn dropped the mug of tea she had just poured. Her eyes widened, and she rushed outside barefoot.

“Bob!?” she shouted, spotting his hunched figure crawling out of the tall grass.

“I was… I was gonna surprise you,” he muttered, dazed, blinking up at her.

“I was about to get ready to pick you up,” she said, crouching beside him, voice filled with concern. “What happened? Are you okay?”

He gave a weak nod, and she quickly helped him up. He leaned on her, wincing a bit, and she guided him inside the warm, rustic cabin.

The inside smelled faintly of cinnamon and pine. The fireplace flickered low. She led him to her bed and sat him down, gently brushing dirt from his cheek.

Bob’s hands trembled as he held his knees, breathing shaky. His chest heaved—like he had been holding it all in since the press conference.

“I-I feel so—”

But the words caught in his throat. His lip quivered.

Yn didn’t wait.

She wrapped her arms around him, gently laying him down onto the bed with her, holding him as if to keep the world from falling apart around him.

“It’s okay,” she whispered softly. “Let it out. Let it all out. We’ll talk when you can, hm?”

And that was all it took.

Bob’s walls collapsed. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he buried his face into her shoulder. His fingers clutched her hoodie like a lifeline.

“I-I tried to be what they needed… what she wanted… the hair, the suit— I couldn’t breathe. I just wanted to come here. I-I needed—”

“Shh…” she whispered, fingers gently running through his hair. “You don’t have to explain right now. You’re here. You’re safe.”

Minutes passed.

The only sound in the cabin was the crackle of the fire and Bob’s quiet sobs, slowly fading into deeper breaths as he relaxed in her arms.

They lay like that for a long while, no words needed.

Because in that small cabin outside the city, wrapped in each other’s arms, Bob Reynolds could finally fall apart—and somehow feel whole at the same time.

“Hey,” Yn said softly, brushing her fingers against Bob’s hand. “Let’s go for a walk, hm?”

Bob looked up at her, eyes a little puffy but calm now. He nodded.

They both stood, Yn grabbing a soft hoodie to throw over her shoulders while Bob tugged at the sleeves of his familiar green sweater. The cabin door creaked open as they stepped outside into the crisp night air.

It was quiet—beautifully so. The moon cast silver glows through the trees, and the woods whispered with the rustle of leaves in the gentle wind. Crickets hummed softly beneath the blanket of stars.

"You know what I do when I get overwhelmed?" Yn asked, walking ahead slightly, letting her fingertips glide over the low-hanging pine needles.

Bob chuckled, catching up beside her. “You go to the music shop and pretend not to see me awkwardly stalking the vinyl section?”

Yn laughed and gave him a playful nudge with her shoulder. “Okay, that too,” she admitted, “but I meant this. Right here.”

She stopped and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of moss and pine.

“I walk here. I listen. I breathe. I let nature remind me that the world doesn’t expect me to be perfect. It just expects me to exist. And sometimes… that’s enough.”

Bob looked around, letting the quiet seep into his bones. It was so different from the constant buzz of New York, the flashing lights, the pressure of headlines and eyes.

“That sounds… peaceful,” he said.

“It is,” she nodded. “And maybe it’ll help you too.”

Bob looked down at his feet for a moment, his voice almost a whisper. “Well, Bucky did advise me to take walks... said it helped with his own thoughts. I tried, but—” he gave a soft sigh—“not sure it ever worked.”

“Probably because your walks were in the busy, noisy streets of New York while, y’know, stalking me from behind hotdog carts,” she teased with a grin.

His cheeks flushed instantly as he scratched the back of his neck. “I-I wasn’t stalking, I was… observing… from a respectful… twenty feet.”

She giggled and gently slipped her hand into his. Bob blinked but didn’t pull away. His fingers trembled a little, but then he tightened the hold.

Yn slowed her pace. “Bob… I know it’s not easy. You carry something huge inside you. Something that scares you. But you’re still trying to be good. Still trying to be you. And I think that’s… incredibly brave.”

Bob swallowed thickly, heart thudding in his chest. “You don’t think I’m… too broken?”

She stopped, turned to him, and reached up to touch his cheek. “No. I think you’re healing. And healing people? They don’t scare me.”

His lips parted slightly, eyes searching hers for any trace of doubt—but there was none.

They stood in the silence for a while, under moonlight and the rustle of wind through trees. The kind of silence that spoke louder than any words.

Then Yn whispered, “You’re safe here, Bob. With me. Always.”

He nodded, blinking back a shimmer of emotion. “Thanks, Yn… for letting me be the quiet version of me. The one who doesn’t always have to be glowing.”

She smiled. “That version? He’s my favorite.”

They walked a little deeper into the woods, where the trees gave way to a small clearing drenched in moonlight. The air was still, thick with pine and possibility.

Yn turned to Bob with a small smile, her hands tucked into the sleeves of her hoodie. “Well, since we’re here… just nature, no noise, no eyes—why don’t we see what the Sentry can do?”

Bob blinked, nervous. “Wh-what, here? Now?”

“Why not?” she shrugged, taking a step back to give him space. “No pressure. Just you, me… and the moonlight.”

“I-I don’t know if I can really—control it all yet.”

“I’ll be right here,” she said gently. “You’re not alone in it.”

He hesitated for a moment, heart hammering in his chest. But Yn’s calm gaze grounded him. So he took a breath and closed his eyes.

The air shimmered faintly as golden light began to trace around his body—soft at first, then brighter. His sweater fluttered lightly as the energy rose, swirling around him like a sentient breeze.

“Okay…” Yn said softly, stepping in like a coach. “Let’s start small. Try levitating, like you did outside my cabin.”

Bob furrowed his brow and slowly rose a foot off the ground, arms out like a nervous airplane. His face tightened with focus, feet wobbling mid-air.

“You’re doing great!” Yn said, hands cupped around her mouth. “But maybe don’t look like you’re constipated.”

“Th-this takes concentration!” Bob said through gritted teeth, wobbling in the air.

Yn giggled. “Breathe, Bob. You’re glowing like a sun—don’t let it burn you.”

He exhaled slowly. The wobble eased. He floated smoothly now, golden aura pulsing like a heartbeat. Then, slowly, he lowered himself back to the ground.

“Okay, okay,” he said, panting slightly. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“You did amazing,” Yn grinned. “Now… let’s try strength.”

She led him toward a fallen log the size of a minivan. “Think you can lift that?”

“I-I mean… maybe?” Bob blinked.

“You’re a powerhouse, Bob. Come on.”

He rolled up his sleeves awkwardly—then realized he was glowing again and didn't need to—and placed his hands under the log. With a breath and a grunt, he lifted it slowly, golden light threading through his arms like molten wires.

The log rose into the air.

He looked up, wide-eyed. “I—I’m doing it!”

“Now toss it.”

“What?!”

“Toss it! Gently!”

He flung it, more out of panic than grace, and the log tumbled like a spinning coin before crashing into a pile of leaves, bursting into splinters.

Bob flinched. “Oops.”

Yn clapped. “Ten out of ten for dramatic effect.”

Bob chuckled, running a glowing hand through his now-blond hair. “I still feel… unbalanced. Like it’s not me doing it.”

“You’re not a machine, Bob. You’re learning. And every time you try, you take back a little more control.”

She stepped closer and placed a hand on his chest, over where his heart beat, fast but steady.

“You’re not the power. You’re the person who chooses how to use it. And that’s what makes you strong.”

He looked down at her, eyes shimmering gold now. “You really believe that?”

She smiled. “I believe in you.”

He took her hand, holding it like a lifeline.

“Then maybe… just maybe, I can believe in me too.”

The training slowly fizzled into laughter. After a couple more power stunts—and one accidental tree getting split in half—they finally collapsed onto the soft grass in the clearing, breathless and flushed from both the exertion and the joy.

Bob lay flat on his back, the golden shimmer from his earlier stunts still faintly dancing around his fingertips. Yn curled up beside him, her head nestled gently in the crook of his arm.

The moonlight dappled through the branches above them, stars beginning to wink awake in the purple-stained sky. A light breeze passed, rustling the leaves and brushing against their skin like nature’s lullaby.

They were both giggling softly, the kind of laughter that bubbles up after adrenaline and comfort collide.

“You know,” Yn said between breaths, turning slightly so she could look up at him, “you look good blonde, by the way.”

Bob turned beet red. “I—I do?”

“Yeah,” she grinned, nudging his side with her elbow. “You look like a golden retriever who just got promoted to god-tier.”

Bob chuckled awkwardly, hiding his face with his free hand. “I wasn’t sure. I thought I looked like… like a banana with anxiety.”

“Well, now you’re my favorite banana,” she teased.

He laughed harder, a real, full laugh that crinkled his eyes and made his chest shake. “Th-that’s the weirdest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

She shrugged, resting her cheek against his arm again. “We’re weird people.”

They fell into a warm silence after that. Bob slowly turned his head to look at her, her hair haloed by the moonlight, eyes half-lidded in peace.

“Hey, Yn?” he said softly.

“Hmm?”

“I think… this is the first time I’ve felt safe. Like… really safe. Since everything changed.”

She looked up at him again, her hand gently finding his. “Then that means we’re doing something right.”

Bob held onto her words like a blanket, wrapping himself in them.

And beneath the quiet woods and glittering sky, the Sentry didn’t feel like a weapon.

He just felt… human.

“I know what we’re going to do tomorrow,” Yn said with a spark in her eyes.

Bob looked at her, resting his cheek on her shoulder, slightly out of breath from their laughter. “What is it?”

She smirked, tapping the tip of his nose. “You’ll see.”

Morning dew clung to the grass like tiny stars as they jogged through the forest path behind Yn’s cabin. The air was crisp, the world still wrapped in the serenity of sunrise. Birds chirped overhead while soft beams of golden light filtered through the trees.

Bob kept pace beside Yn, a little clumsy but doing his best. His blonde hair was pulled back slightly by a band she’d given him, and his old green hoodie bounced with each step. Despite the peaceful setting, he was already panting. “Y-you said this was a jog, not a sprint.”

Yn just laughed, not even winded. “We’re almost there, loverboy.”

They rounded a bend and emerged at a breathtaking lakeside clearing. Mist hovered above the water, and the surface mirrored the rising sun in quiet ripples. The area was secluded, peaceful—a hidden world untouched by chaos.

Bob stopped in awe. “Woah… This place is—”

“My little sanctuary,” Yn said proudly, stretching her arms toward the lake. “This is where I usually train.”

Bob turned to her, surprised. “You train alone?”

“Since I got out of the Red Room,” she replied, her voice steady but soft, layered with quiet strength. “Yeah. It’s where I learned how to be me again.”

There was a beat of silence between them.

“Will you be my training buddy now?” she asked, breaking the moment with a wide, playful grin.

Bob blushed faintly but smiled back. “W-well yeah, b-but I don’t really… know how to fight,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“We’ll learn,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him gently to the center of the clearing. “Come on.”

They began with the basics.

Yn stood in front of him, adjusting his stance, gently tapping his knees with her foot to reposition him. “Wider. You’ll fall over if your legs are too close.”

Bob wobbled a little. “L-like this?”

She circled him. “Closer. But not like a penguin, soldier.”

Bob gave a nervous laugh. “I-I’m trying.”

Yn stepped in and took his hands in hers. “Try to push me.”

“What?” he blinked. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” she said, standing firm. “Push.”

Bob hesitated, then gave a soft shove.

She didn’t move an inch.

“Okay,” he muttered, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re… weirdly strong.”

“Years of fighting and espresso,” she teased. “Now again.”

They went on for an hour—stance, balance, simple dodges. She guided him step-by-step, her touch steady and reassuring, and though he stumbled (a lot), he laughed with her, even when he tripped over his own foot and fell into the dirt.

She offered a hand. “Training 101: fall with style.”

After catching their breath by the lakeside, Yn turned serious.

“Now let’s try something else,” she said, kneeling beside him. “Close your eyes.”

Bob looked at her, unsure. “What for?”

“Feel the sun. The breeze. The sound of the water.” Her voice softened, coaxing him into calm. “Let the power in you rise slowly. Like the tide. You’re not fighting it—you’re listening to it.”

He closed his eyes.

Breathing in. Breathing out.

Golden light flickered along his fingertips, dancing like flames but gentle. Controlled.

Yn smiled. “Good. Now lift that branch.”

Bob raised his hand and the thick log beside them levitated shakily.

“Focus,” she said, stepping behind him, placing a hand on his back. “It’s not about the strength. It’s about clarity.”

Bob’s breath steadied, and so did the log, floating with surprising grace.

“I-I’m doing it…” he whispered.

“You are,” Yn whispered back, beaming.

The log gently lowered to the grass.

He opened his eyes, stunned.

“You did amazing,” she said softly, and Bob turned to her with a tired, proud smile.

“I-I wouldn’t be able to without you,” he said.

“You just needed someone to believe in you, Bob.”

They sat beside each other on the soft earth, the sunlight warming their skin and the lake glistening like a mirror of stars.

Bob took her hand, golden energy still humming faintly at his fingertips.

And for the first time, his power didn’t feel like a threat.

It felt like his.

In the high-rise war room of the tower, tension ran like electricity through the air. Valentina's stilettos clicked rapidly across the floor as she paced in frustration, throwing quick glances at the mission timer blinking red on the monitor.

“He’s still not back?” she barked, flinging a tablet onto the conference table. “This mission is in three days and our golden boy is out playing house with some girl?”

Yelena raised an eyebrow but didn’t say a word.

Val pointed sharply toward her. “Don’t give me that look, Belova. I know you know something. Where is he?”

Yelena shrugged. “Relax. He’s not lost. He just… took a breather.”

Valentina spun, eyes wide. “A breather? He’s the Sentry! He doesn’t get to vanish! Do you even understand what kind of storm I’m dealing with from the U.N. press office? He’s a nuclear-level asset in a relationship with a complete civilian and—God knows—probably barefoot in the forest somewhere meditating under a pine tree!”

Yelena smirked, chewing her gum louder. Ava stood by the window, lips twitching slightly but kept her arms crossed. John Walker was staring at his phone like it was the most interesting thing in the room. Red Guardian was slowly stirring sugar into his coffee.

Valentina kept rambling. “We’re finally getting attention from major allies! The press conference went viral—viral! You know how many eyes are on us right now? We can’t afford to have our headline hero MIA because he caught feelings for some soft-voiced farm girl who sells jam and reads sad poetry!”

Yelena gave a dramatic yawn.

Val's eyes narrowed. “What is this? You’re all unusually quiet.”

No one answered.

A tense silence followed—until Red Guardian slowly took a sip of his coffee and muttered, “Perhaps… he is exactly where he needs to be.”

Val's head snapped toward him. “And where is that, exactly?”

Red Guardian looked over to Yelena. Yelena glanced at Ava. Ava blinked once and looked at John.

All of them avoided Valentina’s eyes.

“Great,” she muttered. “Now you’re all suddenly Buddhist monks and fortune cookies.”

John cleared his throat. “Look, Val. He’ll be back. He always comes back. Maybe he just needed a break from…” he gestured vaguely around the tower, “...all this.”

“He doesn’t get a break!” Val snapped. “He’s not a puppy. He’s a symbol. He is hope. He’s public trust. The Sentry’s dating life cannot override protocol. I’m trying to run a global initiative here, not a matchmaking show!”

Yelena turned her face slightly to hide a grin. Ava blinked at the ceiling. Even John gave a short cough that suspiciously sounded like a laugh.

Valentina glared around the room. “What? What is it now? You all know something I don’t, don’t you?”

The team said nothing.

Yelena popped a bubble and said with a grin, “Maybe if you spent less time micromanaging his hair color and more time listening, you’d be slightly more informed.”

Valentina blinked. “Excuse me?”

Ava finally spoke up, voice calm. “He’s with someone who helps him stay grounded. That’s all that matters.”

Val threw her hands in the air. “Grounded?! I didn’t pull him out of a psych spiral and rebrand him for him to disappear into the woods like some myth!”

Yelena raised her brows, exchanging a quick glance with Ava.

A myth.

If only she knew.

But no one told her. They all knew better. It wasn’t their place—and if Valentina found out Bob was dating The Deathtrap, she'd either panic or try to spin it into a media circus.

Red Guardian murmured, “Let him breathe. You’ll have your golden boy back soon.”

Valentina narrowed her eyes. “He better be camera-ready when he returns. Blonde and brilliant. I won’t tolerate any more stunts.”

The team watched her storm out of the room.

As the doors slid shut, Yelena burst into a quiet laugh. “Camera-ready, she says…”

Ava allowed herself a rare smile. “He’s training harder than ever.”

John chuckled. “And I bet he’s sleeping better too.”

Red Guardian grinned. “Deathtrap always had a way of making even monsters feel human.”

The room quieted again, the weight of the secret shared between them. Outside, the mission timer kept ticking.

But somewhere far from the tower, in a place no cameras could reach, Bob was learning how to breathe again.

And he was in the safest hands possible.

[alotofpockets]

The way I see you | Caitlin Foord x Photographer!Reader

5k celebration prompt: "Your scars don’t make you weak, they show how strong you are."

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.4k

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Cetaphil had hired you for some shoots before, including the shoot with Matildas star Hayley Raso. You worked with the Matildas often, usually being one of the main photographers when they have new kit releases, so it was only logical that they also asked you to come on for their shoot with Caitlin Foord.

You had worked with Caitlin before, from Matildas shoots to Adidas campaigns, and you always found a great rhythm together. The great rhythm was always easily found because she has a similar mindset when it came to the shoots, which made the sessions so much more fun.

The studio buzzed with energy as everyone around you was setting up the set. You were getting your setup ready as well. Laptop placed on a standard next to the main shooting spot for a direct check on your imagery, and checking your camera settings on all of them. When you are ready with the first camera, you turn to the tripod to attach it. 

“Hey.” A familiar voice says from behind you, making you turn around with a smile, “Hi Caitlin, good to see you.” She walks up to you and gives you a short hug, “I had no idea you would be working this shoot, it’s so good to see you.”

You have a quick little catch up before Caitlin excuses herself to head to hair and make-up. The plan for today was minimal make-up, and a slid back bun, so the full focus could be on Caitlin's skin. Minimal was also the theme for the set-up. Neutral tones, just the singular table with the products, no other decoration. 

You took one final look at today's moodboard to see if everything was set-up accordingly, and you would be able to photograph the way the company envisioned. 

Then Caitlin walked back in, “How do I look?” You look up and smile at her. “You look great, picture perfect like always.” Caitlin expertly turned to the set to hide the light blushing of her cheeks. “So, what's the plan for today?” 

You show her the mood board and talk her through your plans for the shoot. And then like always when you’re shooting with Caitlin, everything went smoothly. Together you quickly found a rhythm and got to work. 

Starting with some simple shots with Caitlin posing behind some of the product lines that had been neatly placed on the table, then a few of her with some of the creams and lotions on her skin.

The shots looked great, and you were loving the simplicity of them. They were coming out exactly how you had envisioned them when you were working off the mood board.

This shoot had one outfit change, so Caitlin excused herself to go change. You and the team worked on clearing out the set. While there wasn’t much there already, the next few shots would be just of Caitlin, so all the products and the table could be moved to the side.

The room was bustling with chatter while everyone worked on the set. In the meantime you were quickly showing a few raw images to the project lead. They were already loving that they could see their vision coming to life, and thought the images were great.

Caitlin came back in now wearing a white sports bra instead of the white tank top she was wearing earlier, as well as a switch in bottoms. She looked great, but you could sense that there was a newfound nervousness coming off her. 

You figured she just had to adjust a bit, so you gave her some time before starting the shoot back up again.

Caitlin was standing with her arms folded, and looking anywhere but at the camera. She looked uncomfortable, and that was the last thing you wanted someone to be feeling while you were photographing.

“Everybody take ten, please.” You say you usher everyone out of the room. Everyone but Caitlin, you step towards her, leaving your camera. “Hey, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just I’ve got this scar on my ribs and it’s showing with this new outfit.” You nod, letting her know that you’re listening. “I don’t like showing it because it makes me look weak.”

"Your scars don’t make you weak, they show how strong you are." You try to comfort her. You truly stood behind that. Having a scar meant that you overcame something, no matter how big or small. A scar shows that you healed, and that should be seen as a positive thing in your eyes.

“You think so?” She asks, opening up a little more.

“Yeah, definitely.” You say with a smile. “We have enough shots for this shoot to be a success, so if you want to stop now, that’s totally okay. But I would love to capture you the way I see you, and show you how strong you look. We can use them if you like them, and I can delete them if you don’t. And if it would make you feel more comfortable, it can just be you and me.”

She seems to genuinely consider your offer, “Okay, if it’s just you and me I’ll do it.” You smile and nod, “Alright, let me just tell everyone they can head home, and I will be right back.”

You stepped out and let the crew know they could wrap up for the day, and that you had everything you needed. With a thank you for their work today and the promise you would clean up the set, you waved them off.

When you walked back in, you saw Caitlin running her finger over her scar. She looked up when she heard you come back in, and for a split second she looked completely vulnerable, but the next she seemed to lighten up again.

“Are you ready?” You asked her softly.

She nodded. “Ready.”

You picked your camera up and got her into the frame. You moved the camera around a bit hoping to get a better angle, but realised the lights had to move a bit. “Can you keep facing where I am standing now while I adjust the light?” She nodded and you angled the lights so they were framing her exactly in the way that you wanted. 

When you get back to your previous spot and look through the camera again, you whisper, “Perfect.” While clicking away. You took a couple of shots before you started giving some directions. With every shot Caitlin seemed to get more comfortable, and it was showing in her confidence. You had taken a few good shots, but the moment she looked directly into the camera, you knew you had the perfect shot. 

After capturing a few photographs of the moment, you look over to your laptop, watching the images come through. Your smile grows, “That’s the one, come see.” You tell Caitlin. Who comes walking over. 

You open the latest shot, and watch Caitlin study it. Her smile grows, “You were right, I do look strong. Thank you so much.”

You smile back at her, “Of course, I just wanted you to see how strong you are in my eyes.” Her cheeks flush red, now fully noticeable for you, but she doesn’t let that stop her this time around.

“You said you were going to be in London for a bit next month right?” You nod, “Yeah, I have  a few shoots lined up, and figured I would make a little trip out of it.”

The nervousness that had been replaced by confidence now found its way back to Caitlin in a new way. You watch her every move, trying to figure out what she was thinking, but then she spoke her mind. “If you have time, would you maybe like to get a coffee with me?”

There is a moment of silence as you realise what she was asking you. A warmth filled your chest and your smile grew. “I’d love that. It’s a date.”

“It’s a date.” She echoes with a smile. The nervousness fading just as quickly as it had returned. 

Since you had the space for yourselves, you decided to get a couple more shots just for fun. Caitlin had even pushed you in front of the camera and snapped a few of you. Every shot that had come after the date plans, were of both of you smiling from ear to ear.

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[giuseppe-yuki]

snake expert

pierre gasly x snake shapeshifter! reader

w.c.: 1.5k

warnings: a few cuss words

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: when did pierre gain so much knowledge on snakes?

picture credits from pinterest :)

“go, go quick!” pierre whispers, holding in a giggle. he holds his arm an inch above the floor, letting you slither onto the ground smoothly. the rossa corsa walls of the ferrari motorhome clash against the alpine blue of pierre’s team kit. he gone through extreme lengths to sneak into the motorhome with you because approximately half an hour ago, he had formulated a plan to prank charles. he knew his best friend hated snakes, so like best friends do, he convinced you to sneak into charles’ drivers room to scare the living shit out of him. 

you slithered against the wall, trying your best to camouflage in the shadows while pierre tiptoed towards charles’ room- rather conspicuously with his blue team kit, you might add. it was honestly mind-blowing how a ferrari team member hadn’t passed by the hallway and seen pierre. he continued tiptoing towards your final destination, with a wide grin plastered on his face and his phone out with the camera app pulled up.

when you arrived at charles’ door, you waited for pierre to crack it open before slithering in. charles’ drivers room was split up into two rooms, with the one near the door containing all his racing gear and his f1 sim while the room in the back containing a bed, desk, and massage table. it was separated by a thin sliding door. pierre had been there dozens of times, so he walked in like he owned the place and set up his tripod in front of the door. you could hear charles’ voice speaking in rapid french through the door; probably talking to someone. when pierre gave you the nod, you wedged yourself through the crack in the sliding door and into the second room.

charles was sat on his ferrari-themed bedspread, back facing towards you. he was wearing his team kit along with the possibly ugliest pair of jeans you have ever seen, and in his hands was a hedgehog, listening intently to him talk on about something- probably ferrari’s shit strategies. taking advantage of his preoccupied attention, you continue your climb up his bedspread and towards him. when he spots you coming towards him, his eyes immediately widen in fear and with his quick reaction skills, absolutely propels his entire body the opposite direction of you. the hedgehog (his girlfriend probably, you deduce) that he was holding flies out of his hands but luckily lands softly on the covers of his bed. 

“mon dieu! a-a-a snake!!!” he screams, about to bolt out of the room. 

from the sliding door, your boyfriend bursts out laughing. he had slid the door open when you were climbing up charles’ bedspread and gotten a 4k ultrahd video of charles reaction. 

“mate, you screamed so loud, i thought my eardrums exploded,” pierre says, bent over laughing. “and i don’t think your girlfriend appreciates being thrown across the room like that!” 

you look back towards the direction of the hedgehog, and sure enough, sits a girl in a gorgeous floral babydoll dress with her arms crossed in front of her chest, pouting at charles. “i can’t believe you just punted me like that, mon cheri!” she says, even though you can tell it has a hint of teasing laced into it. charles quickly crosses the room to console his girlfriend, all the while glaring at pierre.

“mate, i fucking hate you,” charles spits out towards pierre, “i swear to god i’m gonna get you back one day!” 

you turn back into your original form as well, giggling as you climb off charles’ bed. “that was funny, i’m not going to lie.” once off the bed, you reach your hand out and introduce yourself to charles’ girlfriend. “hey, nice to meet you! i’m sorry i made your boyfriend fling you onto the bed.”

she laughs, “it’s nice to meet you too.” gesturing to charles, who is now chatting to pierre on the other side of the room, she continues,” i think you affected him much more than he affected me! i swear i felt his heart skip a beat when you scared him!” 

half an hour later, pierre walks out of charles’ driver room, now armed with one blackmail video, 3 cans of celcius, and you coiled up around one of his arms. “that was really funny baby, we should totally do that to yuki!” pierre exclaims. 

before you can respond, oliver bearman turns the corner of the ferrari motorhome. “pierre gasly?” he says, mouth gaping. “what are you doing here? were you stealing celsiuses from the ferrari motorhome?” 

caught off guard, your boyfriend stutters out a response. “n-n-no! um- i was just visiting charles and wishing him good luck for the race later today!”

ollie nods understandingly, but then his eyes widen as he spots you, “ wait, how about the literal six feet snake on your arm? i just heard you call it baby???” 

“er- yeah about that…um yeah thats like- her name…kind of?” pierre stammers, scratching his head and giving a convincing half-smile. you flick out your tongue, hissing a little for good measure. 

“oh, um, okay,” ollie says. “you should probably go though, i don’t want reporters accusing you of breaking and entering the ferrari motorhome.”

pierre nods, and starts walking to the alpine garage. 

when you and pierre arrive, its like a bomb went off in the alpine motorhome. there are engineers in every square inch of garage space trying to fix up the car in time for the prix, strategists typing away on the computers, cameramen fixing up their camera wires, reporters shuffling through prompt papers, and car parts lying everywhere. jack doohan is standing the corner of the room scrolling on his phone, and ocon is cleaning his helmet on a counter with what you’re pretty sure is a flying squirrel clutched to one of his wrists. 

pierre had talked to you before about setting up a snake enclosure in the alpine garage, so you could be more comfortable watching his race, while also having the benefit of not being bombarded by the media spotlight. 

he seeks out one of his alpine assistants, and explains his plan to him. “hey man, i really think that we should set up a snake terrarium for my snake here.” he points to you curled around his arm, like you weren’t already quite obviously out of place in a setting like the alpine garage. “she’s really, really important to me and i will be bringing her every race weekend with me, so it would be great if we could set up an area for her to chill at every prix this year?” 

his assistant gapes at him, mouth open. “so let me get this straight, you’re bringing this snake to every grand prix? is it like, your emotional support animal like yuki’s bunny? does it attack bad people who get near you?”

“yuki’s what??” pierre exclaims. “when did yuki get a emotional support bunny? and no? my snake does not attack people…well actually it might scare them occasionally,” he admits, thinking of his prank on charles. “anyways, this snake is just extremely important to me,” he finishes. 

you roll your eyes internally. of course your boyfriend doesn’t know about yuki’s “emotional support bunny”/ attack bunny/ girlfriend. he was busy plotting his prank on charles while you went and had brunch with yuki’s really nice girlfriend (she had explained to you that she apparently only shows her mean side if somebody tries to hurt her or her boyfriend). maybe you could plan a double date dinner so everyone could catch up on the latest news? you had heard yuki was a great cook.

you are snapped out of your thoughts by pierre when he places you on the counter next to race suit and helmet. it is like he is in his own world as he explains the high level details of how he wants your snake terrarium designed to the assistant, who is now joined by an engineer who you suppose is going to be designing the terrarium itself. he waves his hands animately as he explains. 

“-at least forty gallons! not thirty, not twenty, not even ten gallons! it needs to be big enough for her or else she will feel cramped. for the heating, make sure to use under tank heating pads. do NOT buy the overhead habitat bulbs- those stress my snakes out. also, make sure it only heats half of the tank and not the whole thing, because it is good for snakes to have a range of temperatures to chose from. i know my baby really well, and i know that she likes the temperature exactly at 27-29 C on one side and 32 C on the other. the humidity in the cage MUST be at the right level too.”

both the assistant and engineer stare at pierre, a look of amazement on both of their faces. “damn pierre,” the engineer says, shaking her head. “when did you learn so much about snakes? won’t your girlfriend get jealous that you're going to have a giant terrarium built for your snake but nothing for her?”

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary @mbappebby

[cloveroctobers]

95 DEGREES — ARMANDO ARETAS x BLACK! Reader [Summer Randoms]

A/N: because y’all have been showing love on my first drop and I’ve been thinking about little moments with him since!!! *sings* I’m sprungggg! This was also Inspired by Rihanna acting accordingly on insta to this song towards A$AP 🤭

SYNOPSIS: you’re a content creator who’s on livestream during your vacation with your man. it’s summer time, you’re fine and think it’s cool to act up so Armando reminds you just exactly who he is.

WARNINGS: language, mentions of a character from: power ghost ;) just for a side of messiness, mentions of being in the itty bitty titty community, a little steamy moment somewhere, & me possibly or most likely butchering some Spanish!

<- read my previous anthology piece here.

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This Cuban heat made you feel like you were in hell to be honest. That’s why you alternated between jumping in the pool and lounging on the pool chairs but you can only do that for so long. Not according to Armando though, he had no issue catching a nap or three right underneath the sun but not without you spraying him down. You didn’t play with the sun and neither did that little sun spot that always appeared like the shape of an orange on your right shoulder every summer.

He started to doze off just by you rubbing the sunscreen into his glowing skin and the longer you stared at him, looking like that, you decided to leave him be before diving into your monthly read. After forty-five minutes of doing that you checked on Armando and got to snacking on the spread of fruit while enjoying some peach Bellini’s on the side.

This vacation was deeply needed so you understood how exhausted Armando tended to be, considering that he barely slept. When you weren’t around it took hearing your voice across the phone to help him find slumber. Now? Far away from Miami (by boat at least) and Mexico City, he had no problem catching a few Z’s knowing that you were not far from him.

So you being you, you had to entertain yourself by going to the side of the pool setting up your tripod and phone. You thought about sitting along the trimming but knew it would be too damn hot, so you moved up ahead to the patio to grab one of the bistro chairs from the checkered outdoor table.

Logging onto Instagram live, you patiently waited for some viewers to show up, greeting a few users that you interacted with before, a few internet friends, and others that also sent their greetings in. It’s easy work for you, chatting and seeing what everyone is up to. You answered a few questions about your channel, with the main one being: if there’s been any vlogging going on after revealing you’re on vacation but not where.

~ ctej01: i see armando don’t know what to do wit all that. No way you’re on vacation looking good af n bored. ijs ~

Which set the comments off after that messaged appeared. Of course your ex, Cane Tejada had to be in your live and in your business.

“Don’t you have some other hoes to fuck around with instead of worrying about how much I’m thriving with my man? You must miss me so bad. You’re so used to screwing things up that you don’t even know what the good life looks like, boy bye.” You clapped back, being aware that you should never give this cheater this much attention but you had a little time.

However you knew better than to go back and forth with Cane. He was good at getting a rise out of you and always wanted the last say.

And he could have that because once you said your peace, you started to pay him dust ignoring his laughing emojis and whatever else he decided to throw into the comments. You ended up only talking to the people that mattered and supported you, not some dude who only cared about getting off with other women who can never give him love past the physical. He didn’t respect you so you didn’t have to respect him. That relationship’s been dead for a solid year, maybe even close to two—if you kept track—and here comes this man always lurking. It only amplified once it was revealed that you were no longer in the streets.

Deciding that it was too quiet at the villa you minimized your live to head over to your fav music app, shuffling a random hot girl summer playlist and went back to your live. Scrapping the chair back after you heard that heavy Memphis accent, you already knew you were about to get in your zone regardless of who tried to ruin it.

“It’s 7pm, Friday. Happy Friday y’all!” You grinned after holding up your pointer and thumb.

You fanned yourself with a sway of your hips, “it’s 95 degrees, hoo!”

Unbeknownst to you, Armando had woken up from his third or fifth nap and had sat up looking for you after spotting your sarong abandoned on the chair next to him. It didn’t take him long to find you on your phone, telling no other than your obsessive ex off. There was no doubt in Armando’s mind that you could handle yourself but he was growing tired of that New York native’s game. Armando can only imagine how you felt, it was petty stuff at first—Cane was three years younger anyway so no shock there, leaving comments online like a punk before he even took it further to start leaving voicemails almost threatening that he would come out to Miami.

Armando of course didn’t take that lightly since a lot of his time was now dedicated to AMMO and he always prioritized your safety, doing his own research to find out exactly the kind of guy Cane Tejada is. The dark web provided everything Armando needed (he still had his own style whether the team liked it or not) and it’s not like Cane scared him or anything, it’s the fact that he thought he could continue to be disrespectful even with the relationship being tossed in the dumpster where it belonged.

Armando had plans for him but he just wanted to enjoy his vacation with you first.

“I ain’t got no ni—and no ni—ain’t got me!” You pounded on your chest, fixing the strap to your bikini afterwards just in case of spillage—although you were part of the itty bitty but still they were reserved goods.

You swiftly turned to the side for the next line, which Armando admired just how nice it sat even from a profile view, arms folded as you ran a hand along the side of the shape of your ass, “I’m bout to show my ass—

And with that, you watched in horror as your phone was smacked right across the trimming of the stone pool. The device skidded from your tripod before plunking right into the pool water. Your mouth dropped in shock as you slowly glanced over your shoulder just to feel Armando right behind you.

His husky and straight forward voice hit your ears as he said, “Hope that’s waterproof.”

Sucking your teeth, you turn to the man who meets your eyes, “excuse you?!”

He shrugs his shoulders, biting into a plum as he slowly scans his eyes over your melanin that contrasts over the yellow and green floral set you had on, “what?” He chewed, “Something wrong?”

“Not you trying to rain on my parade to be turnt up with my n-ggas and my bitches.” You placed your hands on your hips in annoyance.

Armando blinks, “you could do that without showing your ass to Cane.”

You tilted your head to the side at this.

Armando was hardly the jealous type, he didn’t care much for anyone having their eyes on you because they should admire you but it was once they started being vocal or even trying to touch you that he had a problem with. Your ex was sitting behind a screen and Armando knew that if Cane really wanted to—if he wasn’t too caught up in his mommy’s business, he could pull up.

And Armando had something for his ass.

“I don’t give a shit about him.”

You’ve done everything by kicking him out of the life and blocking him along with future accounts but with a guy like him? He always found ways around any blockage.

“I know.” Armando kept his usual leveled tone as he held your stare while you molded your lips into your mouth, scratching at your second protective style for the season in confusion.

Clasping your hands together you exhaled, “then what the hell was that?”

Armando finished his plum, licking at his fingers and then his lips before he sat the remains on a table near by. When he turns back to you, he makes a show of getting up close and personal. Lightly gripping your forearms, the pad of his fingertips gently running over your famous sunspot, he flicks his eyes to yours.

“A what don’t got you?” He questioned.

Oh here we go.

You try not to roll your eyes but you’re oh so tempted, “it’s a song and it’s summer! Let me live.”

“And you can do that but not screaming that with your whole chest to viewers.” Armando debates.

Scoffing your reply, “I didn’t see you complaining so much when we were crip walking to ‘not like us,’ the first day we got here.”

Armando pauses, “…that was different.”

“How?”

He doesn’t want to argue, so his hands just slide down to the sides of your ass. With his right hand his pats one side demanding, “jump.”

“No.”

Armando raises his brows and huffs, “okay.” And takes it upon himself to bend and lift you right over his shoulder.

Yelping you quickly find something on his frame to hold onto as he starts walking, “Arman!” You scream just as he jumps into the pool with you in his arms.

When you both resurface, you flick water right at Arman who is smirking while floating towards you. “I told you to jump but since you want to be difficult, i did the honors.”

“Of what? Getting on my nerves?” You start swimming towards one of the edges where’s there’s seating and Armando doesn’t hesitate to follow you.

He snakes a hand across your waist, turning you to face him. His eyes scan all over your face, a faint dimple still playing on one side of his cheek as he soaks in your annoyance. Gently he’s pushing you elsewhere from the seating of the pool and to the wall.

Armando pressed his forehead against yours, “i thought you wanted to play since you were just doing that on Instagram. So how about i give you something to play with?”

“What—

His lips are smashed right to yours, his facial hair tickling against your chin. His kisses burn against your lips as he moves with speed, hands on your hips and your body doesn’t need to fight against your brain to understand what’s happening. Your legs wrap against his hips and your chest to chest with the possibility of your necklaces getting tangled but there’s no one else the both of you wanted to be close to in this moment.

Your nails are scratching along the shortened hair at the back but he knows you’ll be gripping the top once he’s inside. Normally his kisses are soft yet tender while his hands are rough and calculated but right now? Everything is scorching from the weather to simply Armando’s body heat. His ego doesn’t want to give you time to breathe but out of the decency of his heart he does yet that’s no relief because his fingers are at work now.

“Damn mami, I don’t even have to warm you up do I?” He quizzes with a glance downwards.

The pool wall is scratching against your back, the curling of his pointer and the pressing of his thumb that’s just a little higher is dirty work and he knows it. You don’t have time for his shit talking because you’re yanking him by the neck to shut him right up. He matches your speed with no hesitation tasting sweet like plums and mint, your tongues doing just the perfect dance against the Cuban heat. He grunts when you catch him off guard, getting your own feel in his swim trunks.

He pulls back with a pop of your lips, his own movements faltering for a second as you only caress but even that is just right. He pulls his fingers away and place them right at your lips, silently commanding what to do. And so you do, tongue running along the length before sucking, holding Armando’s dilated stare while gripping harder.

“Sweeter than plums, huh?” He asks, his other hand cupping the side of your face.

You hum, ready to slip a hand inside but his smacks your hand away from his waistband. He does the honors of pulling his trunks down just enough and once he gets his other hand back from your lips, his hands are hot on your hips as he lifts you up higher before pushing your own suit to the side to settle right where he belongs.

The moans that echoes through the both of your lips is music to your ears. Armando always gives it time, still in amazement of how you were made to feel around him. He’s panting as he brings his attention back to you but your eyes are closed, also trying to savor him.

“Eyes on me, mami.” He tells you lightly tapping the side of your jaw, “you good?”

You nod before your eyes open to meet his and you match his smirk or freak or whatever. And when he begins to move against you, stretching you so nicely, you have no choice but to bite down on his shoulder (to not scare the birds of course!) so you can recreate a similar spot on your own.

Half lidded you’re lounging on the bed in a robe, your eyes widen as knees knock against the side of the mattress. You lean back against your hand, peering up at Armando that’s softly grinning down at you. He holds out your chipped phone to you and says, “I got you and apparently…you got me too.”

He moves the material to peek at the teeth marks at the top of his own shoulder.

“Shut up,” you croak while Armando laughs bending down to place a chaste kiss to your brow before he crawls over to the back of you.

He loops a hand around you, pulling you right to his chest in a matching robe, letting you get your rest this time.

After at least two minutes passed you awake with a snore, making Armando crane his neck to look at down at you. You snuggle against his chest and whisper, “can you order some garlic parm nugs for later?”

Armando chest jumps with light laughter as he squeezes your shoulder, “yeah baby, whatever you want. It’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Kay,” you sigh, “l love you.”

Armando quirks up a small smile as he gently rubs your back soothingly, “Te quiero con todo mi corazón.”

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Continue with my anthology summer writings & prompts here.

[fungateshortcakes]

Personal attention ASMR

Don't ask questions just run with it

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Summary: You use Logan as your ASMR model

Wordcount: 2.4k (this was supposed to be a drabble what happened)

Warnings/tags: none, english is not my first language, fluff, established relationship, reader is gender neutral but is described to wear acrylic nails, sharp or dull challenge, hair brushing, face tracing, nail tapping, face masks, implied that reader wifes Logan up in the future lol

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The cozy glow of a string of fairylights illuminated Logan as he sat in his armchair, a beer in hand, watching you fiddle with your - what did you call it? - ASMR setup? You struggled to get your camera into the right position on your tripod without knocking off the little hypersensitive microphones that extended from each side.

Logan sat there with an amused smile, but as his eyes wandered over the coffee table that was packed with various tools he couldn't name, facemasks that ran too pink and glittery for his liking- in that moment he thought, why the hell had he agreed to this? Your damned puppy eyes and sweet kisses, that's why.

"You're seriously gon' make me do this?" he asked you, standing up from his seat to stretch. "You agreed to it" you pouted before laughing. "Do I have to let you sign something next time?"

Logan rolled his eyes playfully at your words, shaking his head and lifting his hands dismissively "Nah, I'm kiddin'. I'll do it. But just cause it's you" he replied, helping you connect everything. You gave his rugged cheek a biiig kiss "You're the best boyfriend ever"

Logan chuckled and gave you back some sloppy, over the top kisses to your own cheeks until you were grossed out giggling. "I won't take the blame if your lil' fans don't like it though"

You shook your head. "I am sure they will love it. And you have nothing to worry about except being relaxed and looking pretty. I'll handle the rest" you teased him, smoothing out the thick neutral grey coloured blanket on your carpet in front of the couch, adding a matching pillow for Logan to rest his head on.

He shimmied into position on the ground so he looked directly into the camera hanging over his face. You made sure that his face was entirely in frame, fiddling with the contrast controls of the camera. The warm light from the fireplace contoured the left side of his face while the cold fairylights illuminated the right side of it, creating a interesting and aesthetical pleasing scene. This was gonna be great!

After everything was tuned to perfection, you knelt down over Logans head so you had all the access to his face that you needed. You had even gotten new acrylic nails for the occasion!

You rubbed your hands together "So, one of the most important rules of ASMR is no talking, only whispering. Okay? We want the ambience to be nice and peaceful" you explained excitedly to him. You knew that Logan knew what he was getting into - somewhat. The concept of ASMR wasn't too foreign to him. That comes with having a better half that does ASMR content for a living, but you still wanted to make sure.

Logan scoffed, snorting "Right. Peaceful. That's me"

You slapped his chest, shooting him a mocking glare in the process. "Shush now. I want to start" Logan blew a rasberry at you but quickly settled down after you switched on the camera for recording.

You showed your freshly manicured nails into the camera, tapping the crisp acrylic before slightly scraping them over Logans face "Welcome to another personal attention ASMR. My model for today is my beautiful boyfriend. He was kind enough to be of assistance" you whispered into the microphones, your voice soft and quiet.

Logan huffed at your words, only a small smile playing at his lips but he chose to not say anything and let you work. "We will be starting by tracing his face." you cooed gently, tapping the tips of your nails against his cheek with your left hand while your right hand mimicked the movements off-screen on a wooden board "Oh yeah, forgot to mention, he is a lumberjack, so he is more wood than man" you giggled into the mic, making Logans eyes roll at the corniness. But he couldn't deny that it felt nice.

You drew tingly patterns on his face, each sounding like scratching across crisp wood. You poked three dots under his eyes, drew an x on his forhead over and over again, traced over his frownlines and trailed your nail over his face in a continous line until you gently proded at his lips, making it sound like you knocked on them. He gave the tip of your nail a brief kiss, making you sigh out a smile into the mic. You tapped his face a few more times until you decided to switch up the trigger.

"Next, we will be playing a very popular little game" you spoke in a shushed tone, creating a bit of anticipation before you showed the camera two tools. One was a make-up brush, the other a kind of metal dermaroller with rotating spikes. You brought the tools to Logans head after you parted his hair to your liking "I'm going to touch your scalp with different textures. One is dull-" you started to explain, dragging the soft bristles of your brush over his head "-and the other one is going to be sharp like this" you ended, dragging the spiky roller across. "You feel the difference?" Logan nodded at your question, a low grumble sounding in the back of his throat.

"Good. I want you to tell me which one you feel, sharp or dull. Close your eyes for me, baby" you cooed quitely, humming as Logan did as he was told.

You angled his head a bit to have easier access, taking your time to part his hair neatly in a different location than before until you were ready to start. You stippled the brush against his head, waiting for an answer. "Dull" he whispered and for a second, you felt your chest tighten with joy. He was actually playing along and taking this seriously, it warmed your heart. When you said he was the best boyfriend, you meant it.

You switched the tool, drawing a line with the spike roller from the back all the way in front to his hairline, picking it up again and waiting for his reaction. "Sharp" he murmured and wow, his voice was very relaxing like this. You always found his voice soothing, but his deep whispers were another level. "Very good" you praised and a little proud smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. You decided to use the sharp roller again, letting it hit his skin only shortly before stopping. "Sharp" he replied, enjoying the way the tool made strong tingles errupt from the very top of his head all the way down his back. This was nice.

Your fingers raked through his hair, choosing another part of his head to part. You swiped the tip of your brush over him next, nodding as he whispered "Dull" to you in a hushed voice. You took your time to admire his face for a moment. It wasn’t tense nor taught, the usual frown line between his brows smoothed out and barely visible.

Another stipple of your brush "Dull", another turn of your roller "Sharp".

If you asked Logan, you could do this forever. He would prefer to be completely silent, though. And for you to only use the spiky tool.

To tease him a bit, you used both the brush and the dermaroller at the same time, softly giggling at the way his nose scrunched a bit in confusion. "Come again?" he whispered, a gruffness in his tone. You did, watching him lose faith in himself. As you repeated it the third time, he cracked open an eye and tried to keep his reaction as quiet as he could as to not mess up the video "That ain't fair, sugar" he said a little louder than intended, making you softly giggle into the microphone.

You put your stuff away, ready to move onto the next trigger. Your nails found his coarse beard, scratching along the thick mutton chops in circles while you explained what you were going to do next. "Now that we have messed up his hair quite a bit, I think it’s time for a bit of hair brushing" you whispered, cooing at the way Logan purred almost like a cat as you played with his beard. You kept that in mind for next time.

You sat back and got a neat brush, showing it off to the camera, tapping your nails against the plastic backside a little, before letting your fingers glide over the bristles slowly, softly whispering "bruushhh, bruushhh" over and over again.

When you started, Logan fought the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head. Your slow strokes just hit the spot, tingles and shivers exploding on his head. If the little spike tool felt like heaven already, then this was absolute nirvana. Now this was something you could do for the rest of his life.

Your gentle whispers of brushing fell on deaf ears as Logan tried not to hum at the feeling of the bristles scratching over his scalp. You combed through his whole head of hair multiple times, changing out the brushes and combs from time to time to not make it boring for the viewers and to give Logan different sensations.

When you were done, you settled on scratching his scalp with your nails instead, both hands under his head, massaging in deep circles. "Oh wow" Logan couldn’t help but murmur, closing his eyes for a second to stop them from trying to roll back. You could practically see the shudder that went through him at that, his mouth slightly agape.

As you stopped to get your next pieces of equipment, Logans eyes fluttered open, darting around as if he had just randomly woken up in the middle of nowhere, completely disoriented. It was cute.

"Last but not least, I have some face masks prepared for him." you muttered, presenting the camera a glittery, foaming face mask, swirling a brush through the bowl it was in, the soft crackling of the bubbles being picked up by the mic.

"But first, we will lightly prep his skin. Close your eyes for me, love" you whispered to Logan who gladly let his eyes flutter shut. You used a clear face primer, putting it on his face in little droplets all over before moving to get your sparkly water globes. You turned the globes in your hand, a satisfying glug glug glug emitting from them, iridescent glitter swirling inside. You brought them together at the bottom ever so gently as to not make them break over Logans face, a sound you either loved or hated coming from them as they bounced off of each other quickly.

Then you let the round, bulbous sides glide over Logans face to spread the primer and work it into his skin. At first he slightly jumped from the sudden coldness, but it didn’t take long for him to ease into it as the bulbs warmed up.

You were swiping the smooth globes over his skin effortlessly, removing the puffiness from under his eyes, massaging his cheeks in circular motions and easing any kind of headache as you glid over his forhead and temples. He could really really get used to this.

Like with everything else, you ended this treatment far too soon for his liking. And if he didn't know any better, he would actually start to protest.

The next thing he knew, he felt something cold and gel-like being pressed to his under eyes. Nurishing eye patches - sparkling, probably. Then he heard you rub your hands together, before your palms landed on his cheeks. The foam on your hands crackled loudly at the contact, the bubbles bursting and popping on his skin. You massaged it in, cooeing and making sounds with your mouth. His head lolled a little, too relaxed and sleepy for his own good. But he wasn't about to fall asleep, nuh uh, he wouldn’t fall asleep because of some ASMR stuff.

By the time your hands were back on his scalp to let the foam mask really sink in before washing it off, he was gone. Out like a light

At first, you hadn't even noticed, mindlessly scratching and massaging his head thoroughly with your nails and admiring his relaxed face, thinking about how lucky you were to have him. You had boyfriends before that laughed in your face when you asked them to be part of a video. When they realised you weren't joking, they got mad and lashed out, telling you that not even over their dead body would they sit there like a dumbass and have you whispering weird bulshit in their ear. You were disappointed, a simple no would have done it. But they were angry like it was something deeply personal. Not Logan though, he was a sweetheart.

He acted like he didn't want to, that he was only doing this because you batted your eyelashes at him, but deep down you knew he liked doing these things for you, seeing you so happy and excited was enough. If he was truly against it, he wouldn’t be in this position right now.

You liked to think he was secretly actually enjoying this - imagine your face as you realised he had fallen dead asleep, softly snoring as you wiped the foam mask off his face ever so gently as to not wake him up. "He has fallen asleep, guys" you whispered into the mic, the giddy smile could be heard from your voice even though your face wasn’t visible. You couldn't believe it. Your big, beefy teddy bear of a boyfriend fell asleep because of a little pampering.

You cooed softly, rubbing the last oil treatment onto his skin, being extra careful and gentle with him. "If you liked this video, leave a like, consider following my channel and leave a comment if you want to see more boyfriend content" you said in a hushed voice, coddling the face of your sleeping boyfriend. "See you next time, lovelies!" you whispered, booping Logans nose before switching off the camera.

Your boyfriend continued to snooze even after that, laying there unbothered with a glowy face. And it that moment you knew, maybe it was time. Just maybe, a few videos later, you could welcome your fans to another ASMR video with your husband.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

This idea came to me so randomly, i hope you guys still like it. Let me know in the comments please and leave a like, reblog if you want <3 I love to see it🎀

[chai-berries]

all my friends support palestine and know neil druckmann is a zionist

Pumpkin Patch Aftermath (#25)

If you told Abby that one day she’d be chasing her three children around a pumpkin patch while the love of her life cackles behind her camera lens, she wouldn’t believe you.

But here she is, in the middle of October, trying to wrangle her kids to take a family photo. The youngest, your only daughter, has given up the chase and instead giggles into Abby’s warm neck as Abby boosts her up on her hip. The other two are running in overlapping circles through the pumpkins. It isn’t until Abby lets out a sharp whistle that they stop giggling and turn towards their mom.

“Get over here, now! Or no hot chocolate for either of you. Gen and I will drink it in front of you,” behind Abby’s stern mom-face is a woman who has never denied her kids a delicious cup of hot chocolate when they asked, so the boys knew this was serious. Like two puppies, they run past Abby and Genevieve and towards where you’re standing. Over their heads, you look at Abby. Her stern mom-face is gone, replaced by her loving mom-face as she watches the boys run ahead. She boosts Genevieve higher up on her hip, making the girl’s laugh reach your ears. She then meets your eyes, the adoring look turning into her mom-smile that says “I am so tired but it’s worth it” so well that you let out a laugh, to which she smiles her special smile she gives you when you are happy. You easily recognize the look and feel your cheeks warm. Elijah and Isaac are now standing next to you, looking like two well-behaved boys. When Abby finally reaches you, you’re quick to position everyone back into the previous poses they were in before the impromptu game of tag commenced.

Once everyone is posed, you go ahead and press the timer on the camera, which sits on a tripod you brought for this exact moment. You only get 10 seconds to get back to your family before it takes the photo. For once everyone is smiling with their eyes open and hands at their sides. Abby is still holding Genevieve on her hip, but she adjusted the girl’s clothes and her tiny baby beanie on her tiny baby head. Elijah stands beside Abby, holding Isaac’s hand with a cheesy grin on his face. Isaac’s smile is wobbly but cheerful, his missing front teeth adding a charm to his grin. You stand behind Isaac, who reaches for your outside hand a second or two before the camera snaps the photo. Once done, Isaac, very reluctantly, lets go of your hand so you can grab the camera, tripod, and your bag. Abby takes Elijah’s other hand, aiming to keep all the kids tethered to her in some way as you gather your stuff. When you walk back to them, Gen starts reaching out to you, your parent name falling from her lips as she lets out a long yawn. You grab her and adjust her on your hip, turning to thank Abby when she takes your bag from you to carry. She leans in and pecks your lips quickly. You are startled but grin at her. She winks at you, then turns to the boys.

“Do you want your hot chocolate now? Okay, I want you to stay with us and keep holding hands, please. Okay, let’s go,” she nudges the boys forward to walk in front of you. Staying back in step with you, she wraps her arm around your waist and pulls you closer to her. The two of you, plus sleepy Gen, walk in sync towards the food shed that the farm had set up. Abby gives you another kiss when you stop at the end of the line.

“Do you want something?” She runs her hand up and down your back.

You hum, looking down at the sandwich board. “Can I get a chai latte, small?”

“Of course.” She smiles at you and Gen. “Do you want to go find a seat for us? I’ll stay with the boys.”

You look around and see a few large picnic tables under a tent. The farm had a whole area set up where kids could play while families relaxed under the tents if it rained.

Thankfully, the sky had very few clouds and no chance of rain until tomorrow morning. Abby specifically planned the pumpkin patch outing on this day because of the weather. No way was she dealing with fresh mud caked on the kids’ shoes all over the car and house.

“Yeah, okay,” you lean in to peck her lips again. Tiny moments of PDA were all you allowed yourselves while out with the entire family. If you guys got too lovey-dovey, Elijah took it as a challenge to see what he could get up to before you guys remembered you have children to focus on. One time, before Gen was born, you, Abby, and the boys went mini golfing and while Abby gave you a celebration kiss for getting a hole in one, Elijah managed to run ahead and overlapped two families golfing ahead of you guys. Once you guys realized where he went, he was three holes ahead of you. Thus, the quick pecks are all you get while out and about.

You leave Abby to oversee the two hyper boys who begin excitedly jumping in place as the line moves.

“C’mon, mi amor, let’s go find a seat,” you whisper to Genevieve, pressing a kiss to her head. There’s a brightly painted picnic table next to the pumpkin photo op. You take a seat and slowly adjust Genevieve’s legs around you. She is still awake, her eyes looking around even though her head stays tucked in your neck. You continue to bounce her in your lap, pressing kisses to her face when she whimpers for them.

You must have been spacing out because you startle when Abby’s hand and your chai latte show up in front of your face.

“Thank you, baby,” you say, using your free hand to take a drink from the cup.

“Anytime, sweetness,” Abby responds. She takes the spot next to you, and the boys climb onto the other side to sit across from you. You can tell they’re enjoying their not-so-hot chocolates. Elijah has a whip cream mustache that he acknowledges but doesn’t wipe off, much to the enjoyment of Isaac who has his own mustache made of cream and milk chocolate.

Abby hands him a napkin but doesn’t tell him to wipe the mustache off because she knows it’ll just happen again. Instead she simply nurses her own coffee, a smile on her face as she watches her family enjoy the pleasures of fall.

When the boys finish their hot chocolates and have their faces and hands wiped clean by Abby, you all make your way back to the car. You and Abby trade mom duties. She takes Genevieve from you. The girl’s tuckered out, staying quiet as Abby buckles her into her car seat. You had the job of lining the boys up on the side of the car and helping them get the majority of the mud off their shoes before carefully boosting them into the SUV and into their car seats. Elijah was in a basic booster seat and was now allowed the whole third row of the car to himself. Isaac was still in a more protective booster seat, one with a chest clasp and a neck pillow attached.

You’re about to climb into the passenger seat when Isaac asks for his tiny pumpkin you stuck in your bag. Then Elijah asks for his too.

Abby is still in the doorway of Genevieve’s side of the car, taking her time to adjust the straps on Gen’s car seat like the worried mother she is.

“Abby, can you hand this to Eli?” You pass her Elijah’s pumpkin. Abby takes it without looking and places it in Elijah’s hands. You climb into the car and pass Isaac his pumpkin. Abby finally shuts the back door and walks around the front of the car, patting the hood gently.

You watch her climb into the car. She makes a grunt when she settles. Probably sore from having to chase the kids all over for two hours. Abby starts the car and goes to place her hand on your head seat when she finally makes eye contact with you. The grin and blush that grows on her cheeks match how you feel inside when you look at her, so you lean forward to kiss her. More than a peck, but not ostentatious. When you pull away, you see Abby has her eyes closed. She slowly opens them and beams at you. Snapping back to reality, she continues to back up the car with her hand still clutching your headrest. You indulge yourself unabashedly as you continue to watch her back up, put the car into drive, and smoothly steer with the palm of her left hand. By the time Abby pulls out of the parking lot, her hand has made its way down to your lap to hold your hand. You squeeze it between both of yours and press a kiss to the back of her hand without thinking. You turn to stare out the window at the colorful red and yellow leaves that decorate the trees.

“You okay?” Abby asks you when you stay quiet.

You look at her. She notices your slow blink. “Tired?” She asks.

You hold your index and thumb up, closing the air between them until there’s a sliver left. “A bit.”

Abby laughs at your joke, then hums to herself. You feel her thumb begin to softly run back and forth across your skin.

“How about I put on a Halloween film for the boys and I while you and Genevieve take a nap?” She spares looks to you, to try and watch your face and the road simultaneously.

You nod. “Yeah, that sounds good. You sure you don’t want to take a nap?”

Abby shakes her head. “Nah. I promised to help the boys paint their pumpkins when we get home anyway. It’s okay,” she promises.

“Okay,” you mumble back to her, a nap does sound so appealing. You keep a tight grip on Abby’s hand as you already feel yourself start to drift off.

Abby lets you have her hand until she needs it to pull into the driveway. A gentle nudge on your shoulder wakes you up.

“C’mon baby. Let’s get these kids inside and then you can nap.”

You pout at her, but follow her as she helps Isaac and then Elijah out of the car.

You unclasp Genevieve’s buckles and pick her up to cradle her in your arms. Abby makes sure to take your bag before you think to grab it yourself.

The boys’ shoes are carefully put away and you can already hear them talking excitedly about what they were going to paint on their pumpkins. You go past the living room and into your bedroom with Gen still in your arms. She slowly blinks her eyes at you when you lay her on your bed and start helping her take off her outdoor clothes.

“Hey, baby,” you keep your voice low. “Wanna take a nap with mama?” You place her clothes on the chair next to your bed. Without saying anything, Genevieve climbs over to Abby’s side of the bed and tugs your crocheted blanket up to her chin. You cough out a laugh. She really is your daughter. You change out of your outdoor clothes and into comfy, nap-appropriate clothes that consist of cotton shorts and one of Abby’s old high school shirts. You fill a glass of water in the en-suite and make your way back to the bed, Genevieve already letting out soft snores. Just as you climb under your own blanket, Abby tiptoes into the room.

“Hey,” she greets you, coming up to kiss your head. “I’m just gonna change and then I’ll leave you to your nap.” She brushes her hand over your head, combing your hair back. She presses another kiss to your head. “I love you,” she whispers. She gives you one more kiss then walks to the dresser.

“I love you too,” you tell her when she walks back by on her way to the bathroom.

“I love you more,” she whispers as loud as she can before shutting the door, stopping you from trying to top her declaration.

You are fast asleep by the time she exits the bathroom. She’s wearing one of your tie dye shirts and her favorite Halloween themed pajamas pants. She takes a second to look at you and Genevieve as you sleep. Both of you are laying on your backs, but your heads are turned to face each other. One of Genevive’s hands is wrapped around a few of your fingers. Abby could die right now because of how much her heart burns as she looks at the scene in front of her. And what a way to go that would be.

Abby tiptoes to the door and makes sure to quietly shut it before heading back into the living room where Elijah and Isaac are dealing out what paint they want to use from their paint bucket.

“Is mama and Genny going to join us?” Isaac asks Abby. He grabs a blue tube of paint, then a green one. He then looks up at Abby, his eyes bright.

“No, baby. They’re super sleepy and going to rest for a bit. So we gotta be quiet, okay?” Abby tells him. He nods his head and continues to look at the paint. After a second he turns back to Abby.

“Can we watch Halloweentown now?”

Abby smiles at him and runs her fingers through his hair. “Of course, baby.”

He gives her a big enough grin that she sees where his missing teeth used to be. He starts to hum the theme song before the movie even begins, Elijah joining in when the song actually starts to play.

Abby leans back on the couch. She looks down at the boys kindly sharing paint brushes and tubes of acrylic paint. She thinks of you and Genevieve taking a nap together upstairs.

If you told Abby that one day she’d be sharing a life with you and your three beautiful children, she wouldn’t believe you. But she sure would wish for it.

[thakefurniture]

Lamp table, Tripod table - A particularly elegant Regency mahogany oval tripod table. Figured, tilt top with good colour, over a wrythen turned column and umbrella pod base.

[bloodb3nders]

dvd 001: august.

| toshinori yagi (all might) x fem!reader |

wc: 1.89k

warnings: same as masterlist, use of yn

a/n: i feel like i see no all might fics so here's me filling the void!

NOW PLAYING: august t. swift

the smell of popcorn wafted around the lounge in class 1-a's dorm as mina ashido passed around a few bowls for the class to share. as the social butterfly of the class, she had made quite an effort to implement monthly movie nights for the class.

so, with the class all cozied up in the lounge, a heated debate soon broke out over which movie they'd watch that night. the girls clamored for a romance, the boys hoping for something more action-packed.

to be fair, the last two movies were both rom-coms.

with the class of 1-a having cast a vote for either another rom-com or a spy movie, two votes were left uncast. izuku midoriya and ochaco uraraka sat anxiously, almost paralyzed with fear as their classmates begged them to side with them. bakugo tossed out a threat, and mina promised to do uraraka's hair for the next month if she voted for the rom-com.

the ever-anxious midoriya lost his balance slightly from his place on the floor, falling on his back with a thud, arm flailing out, and landing with a soft thunk on a small, black bag. it was underneath the console table of the tv, and midoriya quickly seized it, curious as to what he had latched on to. as the class continued to bicker back and forth, midoriya regained his bearings, as he brought the black bag to his lap. it seemed to be a soft-shell container of some sort, a black zipper along the sides.

he slowly unzipped the case, and a dvd glared back at him, small script on it reading, august.

"guys!" midoriya interrupted, catching the attention of his classmates as all eyes turned to him. "i found some dvds! maybe we should watch them?" he said, holding up the black case. murmurs broke out throughout the common room, some of the guys still wanting to watch the spy movie. however, the girls seemed somewhat interested by the mysterious dvds, and the boys were soon overruled.

as midoriya loaded the dvd in, he noticed that more lay underneath the first, five in total. before he could investigate any further, the tv roared to life, and a picture of what seemed to be ua came into view.

"is that, all-might?" uraraka asked, as the class of 1-a stared at what seemed to be a high-school ages all might, wearing the exact same uniform that they wore everyday to their classes. midoriya's jaw dropped at the sight of his mentor, watching as he flashed the camera a smile.

"aren't you gonna ask me what day it is," all-might's rang out, and the camera moved slightly.

"i still can't believe i'm even recording you right now," a voice echoed from behind the camera, annoyance laced in it.

"someone's gotta document greatness!" all might says, his fist pumping the air, and the camera shakes, laughter echoing from behind it.

"gosh, you're so corny. i'm still in disbelief you say shit like missouri smash. what even is a missouri?" the voice says from behind the camera, and all-might deadpans, signature smile wiped from his face.

"you'll see, one day i'll be number one!" he says, smile coming back to life, and suddenly the video went black.

the screen roared back to life, as the camera focused on all-might again, an unfamiliar girl next to him. the two of them were both in ua uniforms, as the scene unfolded on the grounds of ua once again.

"final year internships start tomorrow!" all-might said triumphantly, and the girl in the video rolled her eyes.

"and where are you interning?" the girl spoke, and all-might quickly responded. the picture jolted slightly, and a groan came from the girl.

"couldn't you have at least invested in a tripod?" she grumbled, and all-might chuckled. "don't tell me a tiny camcorder is what takes you down, y/n," the number one hero responds slyly, amusement painted on his face as the other girl groans.

"you owe me ramen after this," is all the girl responds, and all-might moves towards the camera, before disappearing behind the screen.

"did you finally come up with a hero name?" all might asks, and the screen moves slightly, before focusing on the girl alone.

"keeping it a secret, you oaf," she responds, crossing her arms, and all might chuckles.

"it's been three years, y/n! surely you can tell your best friend what your hero name is!" all might exclaims, and y/n chuckles.

"or you can find out with the rest of the world once we graduate and join our own agencies," you shoot back, a smug look painted on your face. all might groans from behind the camera.

"our own agencies? don't you mean our agency?" all might questions, and you roll your eyes at the camera.

"whatever you say, pretty boy," you respond, and the screen cuts to black, before static fills the screen, signaling the dvd had run its course.

silence swept over the class of 1-a, puzzled expressions dancing on the faces of the students.

"midoriya, did you recognize that girl? is she a pro-hero?" tenya iida calls out, and midoriya shakes his head.

"if she's a pro, she must be retired, or her costume hides her face because i don't recognize or remember her at all," the green-haired boy responds.

"what was her quirk?" uraraka asks, and he shrugs his shoulders, unsure of what to make of the mysterious girl in the videos. the rest of the class begins to conjecture who the mysterious girl could be, standing next to the legendary pro-hero.

as toshinori lowers the camera, you sigh, rubbing your fingers across your temple. "you okay, mind reader?" he asks, nickname slipping out. you couldn't even read minds, but your ability to move objects with your mind had earned you the nickname from the obnoxious blonde hero.

"yeah, just overexerted myself in training earlier, i can feel a migraine coming on," you said as the pads of your fingers massaged your temple, digging in a little too harshly than you should've.

"wanna grab a tea? mint tea always makes my head feel better when i have a headache!" he exclaims, and you give him a soft smile.

"it's okay toshi, it'll be gone in an hour or so, let's just head out," you say, and he nods, picking up his backpack from the ground and slinging it over his shoulder, before offering you yours.

you offer a quick thanks as you take the bag, before the two of you made your way back to your homes.

you're not sure why toshi had chosen to become friends with you upon starting at ua. around your second year, he had emerged at the top of your class. you were usually safe in the top five, but your style compared to toshi's was night and day. he was loud, flashy, and radiated confidence. you, on the other hand, were quiet and calculated, and the idea of taking to the press or looking at cameras made you feel queasy inside.

on your first day, you remember planting yourself at the back of the class, quietly preparing for your first day. toshi had arrived five minutes lates, and after announcing himself to the class, he took the only seat left, one next to you. after class got out, he’d chatted your ear off for ten minutes, and for another hour during lunch. after that, he rarely ever left your side, despite your attempts to thwart him.

over the past two years, you’d slowly started to grow kind of fond of the big blonde oaf, and it didn’t hurt to be close with a student who had great hero potential. after all, he’d won the UA sports festival for the past two years in a row. you typically placed third, which you were more than content with. you’d be a fool to not stay friends with the man.

toshi was also incredibly kind to you, offering to help you train, with school work, even offering to just walk with you to the store during lunch for a snack. you’d grown to deeply appreciate his friendship during your time at UA.

but now, you were entering your third year, and soon, you and toshi would probably end up splitting ways upon graduation. he always told you you were wrong, kept telling you he was positive you’d both go to the same agency, and share a joint agency one day. you thought the sentiment was kind, and you found it a bit endearing how he believed you’d always be there with him, by his side, fending off villains together.

so as the two of you walked back to your homes, you made sure to etch in the moment of the two of you in your mind, before your walks would be no more.

“penny for your thoughts?” toshi spoke, his warm voice snapping you out of your thoughts.

“just thinking ‘bout graduation,” you said, and toshi hummed next to you, as the sun slowly began to set over the two of you.

“you gotta live in the present, y/n! stop worrying about the future, you worry wart!” he teased lightly, and your lip turned up in a small smile.

“you’re right toshi, you’re always right,” you responded, voice soft against the breeze.

“you really will be the number one pro one day, you know that?” you spoke, turning to face toshi, as the two of you neared your house.

“you’ll be right there behind me, y/n!” toshi responded, his voice laced with his signature confidence you somehow hadn’t managed to get sick of.

“I hope so, toshi,” you said softly, as the two of you stopped in front of your house. before walking up the path to your front door, your feet betrayed you, moving a step or two closer to toshi, going up onto the balls of your feet, and planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow,” you added, and quickly hurried into your house, leaving a surprised toshi standing in front of your house, mouth agape slightly as he touched his cheek, hands lingering over the spot where your lips had graced his cheek.

toshinori yagi had never expected to make friends at UA. sure his new boisterous personality helped him in accumulating them, but he’d wondered if he’d ever make any real friends, the kind he wouldn’t have to always put on a face for, the kind that one day, might know his secret.

and he always thought this way, until he met you. until he saw past your guarded exterior, your kind and genuine personality that made him want to flash a cheesy grin at you. your attentiveness to all of his rambles, even his exaggerated stories. how you always waited for him so the two of you could walk home together. how you gifted him a camcorder for his birthday, so he could 'document his progress.'

and there, under the august sun, toshinori yagi still stood in front of your house, watching your door, hand still on his cheek from where you'd kissed it. he wondered if you'd always be around. he hoped you would be.

august slipped away, like a bottle of wine, 'cause you were never mine.

taglist (0/50): @pixelcafe-network @mjuhgydxf

[wandasaura]

I CANT PROMISE PICKET FENCES

summary — maria’s always been married to her job, but lately she’s been married to the idea of a future with you

prompt — sharing long term dreams, goals and aspirations with one another x talking late into the night

song — black and white by niall horan

🌞⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰🧺꒱ 🌷 ･ mommy maximoff ✧

Spring with Maria always felt fresh. There was just something about the way the flowers enhanced the blue in her eyes and the way her muscles got softer with the weather. She was still your hard headed girl, a woman that would not be swayed easily no matter who she was up against, but a delicacy came to light within her when the weather warmed up and the cherry blossoms bloomed. 

It was your opinion that Maria looked especially ethereal dressed in uniform. The navy blue material brought out the softest wisps of gray in her blue eyes, and the slickback hairstyle she incorporated into her daily appearance was particularly eye-catching, exposing the harsh cut of her jaw and the sharp contour of her naturally slim nose. It wasn’t as soft as her wardrobe at home; loose fitting sweatpants that did wonders for her waistline and some old t-shirt that she claimed had too much sentimental value to toss in the donation pile, but still, to you she looked absolutely diaphanous. You supposed you had to appreciate the uniform, she wore it more often then she did her own clothes, and even now, it was clad to her body like a winter glove as she spun around in her desk chair, two black pens twirling between the slender fingers that were skilled in delicate acts of intimacy. Those same fingers that twirled ballpoint pens between bruised knuckles were fingers that had traced every inch of your skin, and simultaneously pulled a trigger to end the life of someone who had started this life out as an innocent. Maria Hill didn’t have a violent bone in her body, but she owned a heart that fought for justice. 

The bed that Maria had picked out for your bedroom was big. It was big enough for two people to roll around in with an abundance of space between warm bodies and the abrupt edge, but most nights you occupied it alone, and the expense of soft memory foam around either side of your body felt suffocating. Most nights, you occupied Maria’s chosen side of the bed, curled up tight with the blankets pulled taught around your shoulders. Her pillows smelt of the shampoo she favored each time you went grocery shopping, but the sheets lingered with the notes and elements of her perfume that she sprayed all of her clothes with routinely. She was the only woman you knew that kept a bottle of perfume on her bedside table, but you were grateful each night you fell into bed alone and became enveloped in her delicate scent. 

The bottle of perfume on her nightstand had become your temporary tripod as you propper your phone up against it, cocooning yourself beneath heavy blankets and soft pillows as she laid on your side to really look at her, and although the room you occupied was dark and dressed only in slivers of moonlight that slipped into the bedroom, she could see every blemish on your face perfectly. The fluorescent lighting of the helicarrier gave her a radiant glow, and the brightness of her settling bled into yours like she wasn’t really so far away. That thought was merely for your own comfort, realistically you knew that she was somewhere far right now, probably hovering over the rubble of Sokovia or perhaps even farther. She wouldn’t be home for another three nights, but for a moment, if you let yourself drown in the symphony of her laughter that was as sweet and fresh as the songs of a hummingbird, it felt like she was with you. 

“How’s Clint doing?” You questioned softly, cheek pressed firmly against the pillowcase beneath your head and muffling your words slightly. Maria’s lips twitched upward into a fond grin, and her blue eyes traced every shadow across your face as she memorized the sight of you. 

“He’s hanging in there. Misses the kids, misses Laura. He and Nat have been really overdoing the Budapest jokes.” Maria rolled her eyes fondly, her agitation merely pretend as she thought about the birdbrain man and the silent dancer that found themselves beneath her wing. You’re glad that she has some semblance of familiarity, that she’s not entirely alone to act as the Deputy Director, but you miss her either way. 

“Laura’s been sending me pictures of the kids.” You smiled, propping your head up on the pillow with your fist, eyes dancing across Maria’s face as you scan her for injuries she’s conveniently forgotten to mention. Your lips curl further upward when you come up empty handed, but you can’t relax completely knowing there are still hours in the day and multiple nights before she’s home safe and awake from warfare. “Lila and Cooper got into the chicken coop yesterday. Had a water balloon fight with the eggs.” 

Maria’s nose crinkled at the thought of two young children she was entirely fond of pelting each other with eggs, but there was something different in her eyes at the mention of the Barton children. Conversation always flowed between the pair of you naturally, and the lifestyle of Laura Barton was something you’d discussed in length, both of you friends with the woman who had suspended her life in duty to raise three children. You’d never seen Maria so conflicted over a story of her latest adventure, but recently she’d been falling into her head a lot more, surrendering to whatever daydreams she liked to construct when the present became too boring. “Penny for your thoughts?” You offered quietly, eyes kind and questioning. 

Maria’s silence stretches, her expression becoming increasingly conflicted, but eventually her voice fills the bedroom again and it’s like she’s not really gone at all. “Do you ever think about what Clint has?” She asks softly, soft enough for you to pick up on the fact that she’s not asking in the generic sense; she’s wondering if you want what he has. Maria’s always been open about the fact that she’s content in her career, she’s not overly fond of the travel, but she’s content with devoting her life to two things; you and shield. The question that hangs in the area is uncharted territory, but you’re ready to dive into the adventure with her. You’re ready to talk about a future outside of Shield and how you see your life in five, ten, fifteen years. You’re ready to love her eternally, because you know that you have since the moment she asked you to be her girlfriend. 

“I do. I especially like to think about you in a pair of overalls collecting eggs.” Your giggles pulled a smile over Maria’s features, completely ridding the looming tension that pulled at her eyebrows and replacing it with that lightness that only spring could create. “I do, Mia. I think about it all the time. I was just waiting for you to be ready. Are you? Ready, I mean.” 

Maria was always a concentrated speaker. She thinks fully and deeply about the conversations she holds and the responses she gives, especially to those she cares about personally. She’s extremely rash in her decisions that involve adventure, she’ll wake you up at four in the morning talking about racing the sunrise and finding the coast to watch it fully, but her words are always heedful. Nobody can believe that after so many years together you’ve never fought, but if they took the time to know Maria the way that you do, that wouldn’t be so hard to understand. She didn’t hesitate to nod her head at your question, though. She took no time to consider how she felt about your future. Even if she didn’t say it, she didn’t half to. Just by knowing Maria you know that this is something she’s been shifting over for months. The thought of her cementing your future in her mind before she dared to bring it up to you brought  a light smile over your lips. 

“Two kids. I know you said you wanted three when we first started talking, but I think we’d be perfect for two. Two little boys, not twins, but close enough in age that everybody who sees us stops to ask. We’d use the same donor for both of them, so they know that no matter what anybody tells them about having two moms, they know that they’re connected and they’re brothers.” Maria trails off, a soft smile on her face that you want to kiss away until she falls into a fit of giggles. Instead, you clutch one of your pillows to your chest, hugging it tightly and wishing it was her. 

“Two boys, huh?” You quirked a teasing eyebrow. “You want to be a boy mom, Maria Hill? Think you can handle all the wrestling matches and dirt?” 

“They’ll know better. We’ll teach them to take their shoes off before they come in from outside. I’ll wrestle with them. Clint was talking about these play couches Laura got the kids. We’ll get them for the boys, set them up on the floor so nobody gets hurt. But we’ll sit on the couch behind them and watch. We’ll kiss imaginary boo-boos and we’ll play dress up. We’ll teach them that it’s okay to cry, and it’s okay to need a hug. It won’t be like the way I was raised. They won’t hide their mistakes in fear of our reaction, and when they’re teenagers they’ll think we’re badass. I wasn’t ready to think about all of this before. I wasn’t ready to find out if I’d be just like my parents, but I’m ready now. I’m ready to start talking about everything, and buying a house. We can’t live in that apartment forever, I won’t let you live in that apartment forever. I can’t promise a picket fence life. I can’t say that I’m ready to leave my position entirely, but I am ready to start prioritizing our future the way that I prioritize the now.” 

You held onto every word that fell off of Maria’s lips and filled the silence of your bedroom so cautiously. Your eyes glimmered with tears that pool in your waterline, disrupting the image of her sat at her desk in front of a stack of papers and mission reports, and although unconventional to be having this conversation for the first time continents away from one another, it’s entirely perfect. She’s perfect. “Five year plan. We’ll find a house, we’ll start the process. I don’t need a picket fence life, Maria. I just need you.” 

A yawn pulled at your lips, nose scrunching as you snuggled deeper into her side of the bed. The time on your phone didn’t feel like an accurate depiction of the hours that had passed since you called her, but as the early hours dawned closer and closer to sunrise, you knew that eventually you would fall asleep, and when you woke up it would be a new day but the bed would still be lonely. You weren’t ready to say goodbye to her yet, you wanted to talk about the future until you were blue in the face and she was home by your side, but Maria never let you compromise your schedule. “Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll call you tomorrow.” 

“Stay with me.” You whispered softly, eyes fluttering shut as you surrendered to the pressure of exhaustion behind your eyes. It had been a long three weeks of missing her, but the time apart only grew smaller each time you fell asleep. Even so, you didn’t want to fall asleep alone in a home that you share with her. Even if she couldn’t hold you, you wanted to fall asleep knowing that she was watching you like she did every night when she was here. “I just want to know that you’re here, at least partially.” 

You couldn't see Maria, but you knew that she was smiling at you, probably with the cap of her ridiculous Stark Industries pen between her teeth. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here.” 

You smiled, nodding your head. “I love you, Mia.”  “I love you too, cariña.” You didn’t open your eyes to see her smile, but you could hear it in her voice, and only seconds later, you fell asleep knowing that the future you had always wanted was one step closer to fully being yours.

[xxsugarbones]

WORKING OUT WITH TOJI F.

-just joining your big beefy boyfriend Toji for his workout routine 💕

inspired by @starzu’s “Exercising with your boyfriend” fic found v

cw - fem!reader, plus size!reader, Toji is a real stinky boy but you love it, you sniff him (ya lil nasty), exercising (he’s doing push-ups, you sit on his back), biting, Toji folds you like a pretzel at the end, everything is recorded (consensual)

wc - 1.3k

|| an - Y’all I haven’t even watched JJK yet but I am so feral for Toji it’s not even funny. I love me a deadbeat dead man who could throw me around like a ragdoll if he so pleases 😩

Thinking about exercising with Toji.

He’s doing push-ups in the middle of the living room, all the furniture pushed off to the sides to make room for his bulky body, and a small tripod set up on the coffee table, his phone recording his workout routine so he could watch it back later and decide what he needed to improve on.

You were his good little cheerleader, sitting your plump frame on his broad back, your legs crossed and your hands resting on his shoulders.

At first you’d been hesitant to sit on his back because you were afraid you were too heavy for him, but he had assured you that it would be a good workout for him, that your “pretty little body” would be the perfect weights for him. So, like a good girl, you’d agreed so he didnt have to go dig out his actual weights. (Plus, you would have to be the one to lift them and put them on his back, and you knew very well that would not be a possibility, considering just how heavy they were.) And honestly, it shouldn’t have surprised you that he proceeded with no trouble at all.

He’s been at it for about half an hour now, occasionally taking little breaks by laying on the floor, while you shifted yourself back to straddle his thighs to give him a chance to breathe.

But it wasn’t ever too long before he got back into it, telling you to “sit your pretty ass back down on my back”.

“You got this baby! Doing so well!” You cheered on, leaning down again to rest your hands on his shoulders. His neck and shoulders were damp with sweat, his muscle tank clinging to his skin and loose strands of hair hanging in front of his eyes. He kept his sharp, green eyes focused on the ground, just trying his best to even out his breathing and keep himself in line, but it was getting very difficult with the feeling of your body weight and heat sitting atop him. But he stopped, lowering himself down flat to the ground when you tapped his shoulder three times.

“Lemme try something.” You started. You didn’t get much of a response other than a grunt from the man, who just wanted to continue his workout now that he was in the thick of it. You took that as your cue, shifting your body into a different position. Now you lay down on his back, stomach and chest against his toned muscles, and your arms wrapped around his slutty slim waist, and your nose nuzzled into his neck with a smile on your lips.

‘’m all sweaty, babe, don’t do that.” He huffed, but didn’t say much else as he once again started his push-ups, feeling you smile into his sweaty skin. This was much more comfortable for you. He grumbled out something about you being ‘gross’, which only made you laugh in response.

“But you smell good!”

“I stink.”

“I like you stinky.” Was your response, your hands sliding up underneath the hem of his tank and feeling his sweaty abs. A combined shiver ran through the both of you at the contact- your cool hands against his warm flesh, and he muffled a soft groan by sinking his teeth into his lower lip. You smiled, nose brushing along the tense muscles in his neck and just to prove your point, you tucked your head just beneath his jawline, and took a deep inhale.

“You’re real gross, princess.” He scoffed, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye as best he could but really only catching a glimpse of the top of your head. You laughed, pressing a kiss to the juncture between his neck and shoulder, and humming against the warm skin.

“Yeah but you love it.” You shot back, hands continuing to move around his body. One slid up his abs, moving further and further up his body until it hovered above his chest, the palm of your hand brushing against his nipple and making him tense again. You grinned, gently twisting and tugging at it.

“Gotta stay focused, baby, not much longer now and you’re done.” You teased, moving your lips to his neck again, your teeth ever so softly digging down into the skin, making a point to scrape your sharp canine teeth into the muscle. The groan you managed to rip from Toji was heavenly, and he could feel his already semi-hard cock twitching to life the longer your teeth were sunk into him.

“Playing a dangerous game there.” He hissed, but you paid no mind, just biting down a little harder. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, he had flipped your position. He rolled you over so your soft body hit the carpet with a soft ‘thump!’, and he quickly shifted his body above yours so he was pinning you down to the ground, one of his massive hands grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them above your head.

“Toji!” You squeaked, looking up to the taller man with widened eyes, and your thick thighs squeezing together at the sexual tension between the two of you that you were suddenly hyper aware of. Toji’s free hand grabbed onto one of your thighs, yanking it open and holding the underside as he hurled it up and over his shoulder, the heel of your foot digging into the back you had just been laying on not even minutes before.

“Nu-uh, princess, don’t act all shy now when you’ve been actin’ needy this entire fuckin’ time.” He moved his hips forward, pressing his hips against yours, finally making you aware of the little problem you’d caused him during his workout. You whimpered, rolling your hips upwards to grind against him, making Toji sneer, looking down to where your hips connected.

“How ‘bout we do a little workout together, huh?” He started, letting go of your wrists to grab onto your other thigh, hoisting it up onto his other shoulder. Your hips were up and off the ground now, and he leaned his body weight forward, pressing down into you so your thighs pressed against the swell of your stomach and chest. The angle ever so slightly constricted your breathing, but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t make your brain fuzzy with the excitement for what was about to happen.

“You’re gon’ stretch your muscles for me, and I’m gonna fuck this pretty fuckin’ pussy.” He proposed, his hands smoothing down your thigh to push away the oversized shirt you had stolen from him (despite being a bigger girl, his shirts were still big on you, something drool-worthy), letting it roll up your body to expose your plush stomach, then making his way down to tug at your panties, pulling them flush against your pussy, and moaning at the sight of the wet patch that slowly soaked through the thin fabric. You whined, bucking your hips up towards his face.

“L-Like yoga?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” Toji chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your clit through your panties. You whined again, grappling onto the carpet beneath you as he pulled the fabric aside, then used his other hand to quickly pull down his sweatpants and boxers in one swift movement.

“Just keep these gorgeous legs up for me and we won’t have a problem.”

-

By the time you two were finished, Toji had to safely tuck that little video of his “workout” into his ‘HIDDEN’ album in his camera roll. But if you ask him, it was a pretty damn good workout.